


Nothing More to Life Than Love

by auntieomega



Series: Is It Really So Strange? [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Christmas, Dubcon Kissing, First Time Bottoming, Gay Bruce Banner, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, New Year's Eve, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Questioning Tony Stark, Rimming, Romance, Transgender Betty, Valentine's Day, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auntieomega/pseuds/auntieomega
Summary: *Title comes from "In the End," by Snow PatrolFate wrenches best friends (and almost lovers), Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, apart. Nineteen years later, the two are reunited, and their complicated friendship resumes. Now that they are older, are they wiser? Will the two finally get together?***Complete****





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First, I apologize. It's been a year since I promised to post this. 2016 was five kinds of shitty. To be honest, given the current political climate in the U.S., the only story I want to write with a billionaire is one where he's fed to alligators, but Tony is actually sweet underneath it all, so, because I'm feeling like shit today and imagine a lot of you are too, here's my little light to the universe.
> 
> Oh, and if you've suffered through the other fics in this series, I believe you will like the ending.
> 
> Also, a big thank you to Musey for reminding me that I needed to finish this series, and to KlatuuDulak for beta reading!
> 
> If you want to get in touch or find out what I'm writing these days, go to SionnachWintergreen.com.

_October 1993_

Tony sat on the beach and watched the sandpipers dance with the surf. Despite the constant, heaving breath of the ocean wind, the sun felt hot on his bare skin. The waves called him. As he started up, a kiss landed on the back of his shoulder. It was followed immediately by the jab of a wet nose and a soft giggle. “Tag."

He grinned and, turning, threw an arm around Bruce’s neck and pulled. Bruce struggled against him, laughing, brushing saltwater-stiffened curls against his side. Tony yanked his head into his lap. Bruce smiled up at him stupidly. His face was a little sunburnt and stubbly, but the bright sunlight revealed tiny gold coronas around the black irises of his dark brown eyes.

Tony felt as if that same gold were soaking through his skin, as if the heat within his body and the solar energy all around were staring up at him all at once. He brushed his thumb against Bruce’s lower lip, feeling the sand from his fingers drag against it. He stared into the scientist’s eyes and breathed, “You’re it.”

All amusement drained from Bruce’s face. “Game over?” he whispered.

“Don’t nerd this up, Bruce.”

With a slight grin, Bruce reached up slowly and swept the backs of his fingers up Tony’s temple. Tony closed his eyes and bowed his head, letting Bruce’s hand glide into his hair.

Bruce shoved him backward in the sand and dove on top of him. Their bodies pressed against each other, the sweet smell of sun-warmed coconut oil mixed with saltwater and sweat all around them. Bruce nipped Tony’s chin. Tony grabbed the back of Bruce’s neck, both hands yanking fistfuls of shaggy hair. Bruce clamped his teeth around Tony’s throat.

Tony, already hard, hardened more. He ground his swollen cock against the stiff bulge in Bruce’s damp swim trunks. Bruce’s teeth kneaded his neck; Bruce’s hands held either side of his head. Tony still held Bruce by his hair. He pulled it gently with a swivel of his hips and smirked at Bruce’s desperate little moan.

They rolled sideways. Bruce snapped off Tony’s Versace thong with a rubber band pop. Tony kissed his head, laughing. Bruce struggled free of his ratty lavender swim trunks. (Lavender, fucking wow.)

And they were naked beneath the hot sun, surrounded by seabirds and ocean and miles of white sand. He held Bruce close. Bruce’s hand slid down Tony’s body and squeezed the head of his cock. With a shudder of pleasure, Tony ran his fingers through Bruce’s hair and lightly kissed his sensual mouth. He could feel Bruce’s hard cock, pressed against his stomach, pulse with longing as Bruce fondled Tony’s glans.

Still teasing Bruce with soft kisses, Tony let his fingers spill over Bruce’s shoulders and slide down his ticklish sides. Bruce squeezed Tony’s shaft and tugged at his root, giving Tony’s balls a seductive jostle. Tony lifted against Bruce; Bruce caught Tony’s lower lip between his teeth and pulled gently.

Tony invited Bruce into his mouth. One of his hands stroked Bruce’s ass, while the other snuck between their taut bodies and grabbed Bruce’s cock. Bruce answered with a pleased huff, gave Tony a parting kiss, then pulled away to take Tony’s cock in his mouth. He didn’t bother with licks or ceremony, he just gulped its head and swallowed and swallowed like a snake with a rat.

Tony lost himself for a second. He hadn’t quite risen above that initial wave of bliss when he felt Bruce stroking his perineum. He tilted his pelvis forward and draped a leg over Bruce’s shoulder in anticipation.

***

“Tony! Tony!” The frantic voice shrilling in his ear was accompanied by someone shaking him.

“What?” He blinked awake. That…wasn’t an odd dream…really. He often had erotic dreams in the air, and Bruce had been on his mind since he’d heard about the accident. Now, he was going to see him. Under the circumstances, dreaming about Bruce wasn’t that weird.

The naked harpy beside him continued to shriek and pull his arm. He frowned up into the woman’s desperate blue eyes. Mink. That was what he called her. Sleek and beautiful with the intellect of a bunch of dead rodents. She shook him harder. “Tony! Tony! Kendra’s dying. Do something!”

He sat up and found a second woman on the floor trying to comfort a third, who seemed to be having some sort of fit. Goddamnit. That eel in charge of vetting his traveling companions was getting fired. No smokers, no junkies, no diseases. That wasn’t complicated.

“Shut up, Tracie!” ordered the sable-haired woman on her knees. “You’re making things worse!” Sable locked eyes with Tony. “She’s having a panic attack. We just need to calm her down.” Despite Sable’s reassurance, the blonde on the floor beside her continued to gasp and clutch her chest.

“A panic attack?”

“Yes.” Sable held Ermine’s shoulder and whispered something into her hair. She looked up at Tony. “She has them sometimes.”

Tony shrugged. “Panic attacks aren’t real. She’s just weak and neurotic. She’s trying to get attention. Try slapping her.”

Sable looked up at him with a surprising antipathy. “She’s not weak and she’s not faking.”

“Do something!” begged the useless creature beside him.  


Tony pulled his phone from the bedside table. “Have Dr. Dunlap add a psyche eval to my companion screening.” He glanced at Mink on his arm. “And an I.Q. test.” He hung up. To Sable he said, “You need to put her in the guest compartment. Now.”

Sable struggled to get Ermine to her feet. “I’ll stay with her a while.”

“Not unless you want to be dropped at the next airport.”

She stared at him in apparent confusion.

“It’s fun time. Ermine’s out, and Mink’s not going to be enough.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. My kinky four-way just turned into a kinky three-way, but I can work with that.”

Sable’s eyes narrowed. “I’m staying with her. I’m not touching you the rest of this flight, and I’ll leave with Kendra at the next airport.”

“After this errand, we’re going to do a little shopping on Rodeo Drive.” He flashed Mink a smile as she purred approvingly beside him. “And then I thought we could go to Dubai. You really want to miss that?”

Mink squinted. “Is that near Reno?”

Tony looked into her eyes as he stroked under her chin. “That’s a truly impressive amount of idiocy.”

“You’re disgusting,” said Sable. “You’re a misogynistic pig. Everyone thinks you’re so sexy and charming, but they don’t know the truth. Maybe I should tell them.”

“You’re not telling anyone anything. If you violate that nondisclosure agreement you signed, I’ll sue you so hard your parents will feel it.”

“We can’t get to the next airport soon enough.” With an arm around Ermine’s waist, she started toward the door.

“Wait.” Ermine panted. “I want to go to Dubai.”

Sable held to her arm. “Chica,” she said softly, imploringly, into Ermine’s platinum mane, “this isn’t for us.”

Tony realized suddenly that he and Sable were engaged in some sort of tug of war. He also realized the women were more than friends. He could have let them go. But tug of war was a game—and ‘war’ was right in the name.

“Too bad. I was going to buy everyone Porsches.” He smiled at Mink. “You need a blue one to match those beautiful eyes.” She simpered against him. He looked at Ermine. “And you—red like your lips?”

Ermine’s eyes brightened in her flushed face. “You’re joking.”

Sable tugged her lover’s elbow while flashing a hateful glare at Tony. “Disgusting.”

Ermine pushed free of Sable and staggered toward him. Tony grabbed Ermine and threw her onto the bed. He smirked at Sable. “And so ended the Golddigger Revolt of ‘93. Better luck next time, Sappho.”

Sable’s eyes shone with betrayal. “People don’t mean anything to you, do they? We’re all just pawns and playthings.”

“You say that like it’s bad.”

“Have you ever loved _anyone_?”

“I’m rich and brilliant—what use would I have for love? Love is just some drivel used to sell cards and jewelry.”

She looked stunned. “Love is the greatest force there is.”

“No. That’s gravity.” For a moment he wished Bruce had been there. Bruce would have loved that, although Bruce probably would have had to add something pedantic about nuclear forces being stronger at small distances. Fucking Bruce. Tony scanned Sable’s confused face. Bruce wouldn’t have loved the way he was treating his groupies. “Go to the guest quarters. When we get to the airport, I’ll buy you a ticket to Gloria Steinem-ville or wherever-the-fuck.” Her sudden teary gratitude shamed him; he couldn’t look into her eyes. “You can do better than being in an entourage. And you can get a better girlfriend.”

“Hey!” squeaked Ermine.

“Shut up, Wheezy. You’re still getting a car.”

Sable rolled her eyes. “Pig.” She turned and left.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony stood in the hospital hallway, pretending to talk on his cell. When he was certain Betty and her parents were gone, he walked to Bruce’s room. He knew he shouldn’t have been there, but he had to see Bruce, had to make sure—

He could hear a low, constant moaning from outside the door. He caught the attention of a nurse walking by. “He shouldn’t be making that noise, should he?”

She blinked at him. “Oh, no. He’s in pain.”

“Last I heard, they had medicine for that.”

She winced a little. “He’s maxed out.” She frowned. “Are you—”

“I’m family. His cousin.”

The nurse smiled at him sadly. “He does that when he sleeps—he’s dealing with a lot of pain, but we’re taking good care of him. He’s fortunate to be alive.”

Tony wondered if Bruce would agree. He thanked the nurse and walked into Bruce’s room. The sounds were even more heartrending close up, possibly because he could hear more of Bruce’s voice in them.

Bruce lay on his side in a nest of pillows. Tony leaned over the bed and caressed along his hairline. Silence filled the room. Tony smirked. “I know how your engine works, don’t I?”

Bruce’s eyes cracked open. “Tony?”

“Yeah.” He smiled and dragged his fingernail through the hair around Bruce’s ear. “Don’t think I came because you’re hurt; I’m only here to say ‘Caltech sucks,’ and call you a failure.”

Bruce stared at Tony, unblinking. The pupils of Bruce’s eyes were pinned from the opiates in his system. The tiny, subtle flecks of gold that always glittered in his brown irises, now radiated from the pin-prick pupils with a startling luster. And the small streaks of blue—had those been there before? He couldn’t remember ever noticing them.

“That can’t be you—clean shaven. And…are you wearing a baseball cap?”

“It’s a disguise. People don’t need to know we’re friends—especially now.”

“Yeah, but the Sox?” He coughed into his elbow and trembled.

“You don’t know anything about them.”

“I’ve dated guys who were into baseball.” Bruce smirked when Tony arched his brows. With another short cough, he amended, “I’ve had crushes on guys who were into baseball.” His eyes closed when Tony’s nails backtracked around his ear.

“Nerd.”

Bruce’s mouth hiked up at one corner. “Right. Baseball’s so manly.”

“Watch it.” He gave Bruce’s earlobe a threatening tweak. “I don’t care if you’re playing invalid—I’ll still hit you.”

“If it were any lamer it’d be curling.” Bruce started to laugh but ended up coughing, sucking air and twitching. Tony watched him and stroked his face. He had a strange feeling that something significant was happening, that he should be paying special attention. He shook the feeling away. Bruce had been in an accident. He had been hurt. These things happened. And Bruce was always in over his head with something. This was just more of the same.

Bruce snaked a bandaged arm around Tony’s neck and pulled him closer. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He sort of laughed, sniffling, then sighed in that tired-puppy way like he usually did when they reunited that always made Tony feel warm inside. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Tony hugged his neck. “I haven’t missed you at all. When I heard about the accident I had kinda hoped I’d gotten rid of you.”

Unfazed, Bruce whispered, “It wasn’t all accidental.” He continued in Tony’s ear with something close to glee. “I did it! I destroyed the fucking thing! I contained the damage—and shattered my reputation! I did it! I won!” He pressed his face against Tony’s head. “I’ve been dying to tell someone that. Dying.” He began coughing and pulled away.

Tony straightened and watched Bruce with a sinking feeling. “You sabotaged the experiment and destroyed that new weapon.”

“It was an accident.” Bruce smirked. He waved a bandaged hand at Tony. “ _This_ was definitely an accident, but I couldn’t let the pit degrade. I wanted to kill their shiny new toy, not make the test site uninhabitable for thousands of years.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Tony strained to contain his alarm. He loved Bruce. Like a best friend—no, like a brother—more than that—like he loved his own cock. But this was treason. “Why do it at all?”

“That thing would have killed so many people. All of those lives would have been on my head.”

“It would probably have just been used as a deterrent.”

“We have enough deterrents. We spend more on defense than any other country.”

“I know. Ka-ching.” But it came out anemic rather than playful. Tony sat on the bed and stroked Bruce’s arm. He didn’t feel like admitting Bruce was right, so he changed the subject. “Hey, KFC, are you on your side because your back’s burned?” He explored before waiting for an answer, moving aside the sheet to inspect Bruce’s back. “Fuck,” he said softly. “You’re back’s wrapped like a mummy.”

“My back took the brunt of it.”

“No wonder you’re making noise. That’s a large area of skin to fuck up.”

“It’s not that bad. Most of the burns on my back are third degree—the nerve tissue has been destroyed, so I can’t feel anything. It’s the second degree burns on the backs of my legs—those are the ones that hurt. The back of my sack—fuck. And the soles of my feet—but it’s not that bad, really.”

“You could have died….”

“I didn’t.” Bruce winced as Tony pulled the sheet back over his shoulder, accidentally grazing one of his dressings.  
“You’re hurt. Why isn’t Hulk here?”

Bruce glanced away. “We aren’t talking to each other.”

Tony smirked. “You’re having a Brady-sister-fight with your alternate personality?”

“He threatened Betty.” Bruce’s gaze fell on Tony. “After what he did to you, I took it seriously. I locked him away. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“I guess that’s good that you aren’t growling and slinging bedpans around.” He smiled when Bruce chuckled. Still, Tony thought it sad that Bruce had to endure this agony on his own. What use was a monstrous, pain-sucking alternate personality if it left you to fend for yourself with wounds this severe?

Tony pulled a plastic case from inside his jacket and showed it to Bruce. “You don’t have the new Smashing Pumpkins cd do you?”

Bruce beamed. “Betty loves the Pumpkins.”

“Awesome.” Tony tossed the cd case over his shoulder. It clattered somewhere behind him. He reached into the pocket of his jacket. “I brought you another present.” He turned slightly and unwrapped it where Bruce couldn’t see. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

“No.”

“Fuck you. Do it.”

“Betty’s going to walk in any sec—”

“Goddamnit, Bruce. You’re ruining my fucking present.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, then shut them. Tony crammed the gift into Bruce’s mouth and held a hand over his lips. Bruce sputtered in amusement as Tony, still covering Bruce’s mouth, began stroking his throat as if pilling a dog. Tony cooed softly. “Good Benji. Good boy.” He grinned as Bruce chewed. “Told you it was a good present.”

“Mmhm…. Chocolate…. I was expecting your dick or something."

Tony fished out another one and fed it to Bruce with a little less ceremony. “That was supposed to be mine, but I think you need it more.” He smiled when Bruce, mouth full of chocolate, lifted an eyebrow. “That gooey center is liquid THC. It should help with the pain.” He looked around the plain room. “And the boredom. This must suck.”

“That was the best present.”

“Yeah, better than that ugly flower arrangement and that hideous creature holding a card. What the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s a scarecrow. Or Jesus, I’m really not sure. It’s from Mrs. Ross. They’re religious, but it’s almost Halloween….” Bruce coughed. “Scarecrow Jesus?”

“How are they taking all of this?”

Bruce winced. “I think she and the general are hoping I die.”

Tony couldn’t help smiling. “You have to survive just to piss them off.”

Bruce laughed, then shivered with pain. “Trying.”

Tony ran a finger along Bruce’s forehead. After only a few seconds, Bruce blinked sleepily. Tony continued stroking him. They didn’t say anything for a while. “Does Betty know this trick?” Tony tapped on Bruce’s head.

“No,” said Bruce, eyelids at half-mast. “Only you.”

Tony fished a marker from his pocket. “Hold still.” Across the top of Bruce’s forehead, he wrote: ‘for quiet, pet here,’ and drew dotted arrows along Bruce’s hairline to his ears. He explained his work to Bruce, who smirked at him. “If anyone asks, your cousin came to see you and drew on your face. Betty needs to do this while you’re here. You should get the nurses to do it too.”

But Bruce didn’t seem to be listening. His face had grown somber. “I had to do it. When you grow up with so much violence—I can still see his face—that warped delight in his eyes when he knew he’d really hurt me. I can’t stop hating him. I’ve tried to bury the past, but sometimes there’s just so much rage and…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be responsible for unleashing so much cruelty. I couldn’t let them—not in my name. I couldn’t. I can’t—won’t—”

“You won’t.”

Bruce shuddered, caught somewhere between anger and tears. “All I want is a normal life. Something quiet and small. Where I control my actions. Where I don’t hurt anyone.”

Tony smirked as he caressed along the dotted line. “I think you’ll get exactly that. An accident this big—you’ll be a total disgrace. You’ll be lucky to teach sixth grade chemistry at a public school.”

At that, of all things, Bruce’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to teach sixth grade chemistry.”

“You’d be good at it. Marginally overqualified, but—” He shrugged. “I imagine a doctorate or two from Caltech’s gotta be good for something.”

“And you.” Bruce gazed up at Tony with glassy eyes. “Once they’re off my back, I want to see you more. I miss you. Emails and phone calls—I can’t see your micro-expressions. Or smell you…like…even the bad…you know…like…farts.”

“You like my farts? I’m going to have to remember that.”

“Not exactly your farts. It’s—everything. All of the real…reality, really, and the…untraceable emotional algorithms all…within the sensory cortex like…in a broader context could be construed…could be…electric…all of those feelings and…the real….” He frowned and shook his head a little. “You know what I mean, right?”

“No. That didn’t even start out making sense.”

Bruce giggled and whispered. “The THC and opiates must be producing a synergistic effect. I think I’m kinda fucked up.”  
Tony grinned at him. He held the marker over Bruce’s face. “What about a mustache?”

“You first.”

“Nah. If you’re in here another hour or two you’ll grow a real one, you hairy ape-fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“What about a kiss face?”

“Okay. Starman. Or the cat.”

Tony chuckled. “I meant a lip print. But, yeah. KISS face.”

“ _Your_ face is smooth. It’s smooooooth.” He pawed at Tony’s face with a bandaged hand. “Sucks I can’t feel it.”

Tony leaned close and wiped his chin against Bruce’s cheek. Bruce swooned against him. His eyelashes fluttered against Tony’s skin. “Like silk. Like…buttered silk."

Tony breathed a light kiss against Bruce’s mouth. He felt as if everything in him was circling something, everything spinning, everything straining to reach some perfect point. If he could only grasp this one thing, every answer in the universe would fall into place.

“Like a baby’s butt. Buttered baby butt. Mmmm…I would kill for some popcorn.”

“They probably have some at the nurses’ station. I’ll hook you up before I leave.” He sat up and drew on Bruce’s forehead.

“What’s that?”

“A swastika between your eyes. Like Charles Manson.”

“You aren’t really, are you?”

Tony looked into Bruce’s eyes. “Nah.” He licked his thumb and rubbed Bruce’s skin. “Oops.”

“Goddamnit.”

He grinned at Bruce. “I can fix it.” He worked while Bruce made disgusted noises. Then he sat back and popped the cap back on his marker. “There! Now it’s a little nuclear symbol.”

Bruce giggled. “That’s fucked up.”

“You’re fucked up.” Tony leaned over and hugged Bruce’s neck awkwardly. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he whispered, voice thick with love.

Bruce nuzzled against him. “The Sox suck.”

***

_a few weeks later_  
 _Kalgoorlie, Western Australia_

Tony sat up with the phone. “Bruce?”

“Did I wake you?”

Tony squinted in the sunlight coming through the slit in the curtains. “I needed to get up anyway.” He reached over the woman on his right to check his watch on the nightstand. The race started in an hour. He needed to get dressed and give his car a quick once over, but he could spare a few seconds. Besides, he sort of enjoyed talking to Bruce before doing something dangerous. “How they hanging?” He instantly regretted the idiom. The accident had left Bruce terribly scarred.

“Umm…better, actually. Now that you mention it, I guess that’s one positive. I’m scar-free. I’m not sure why, exactly. Something to do with his regenerative ability—”

Fuck. This could go on forever. “You saw that plastic surgeon finally? I told you he did good work. Send me the bill, bro, okay? I gotta go—”

“Tony! Please! I didn’t see anyone—it’s the experiment! Something happened, and I don’t know how to reverse it.” His breath caught.

“What?”

“Tony—oh god, Tony.” Bruce continued in a whisper. “Oh god oh god oh god. He’s going to kill someone. What the fuck did I do?”

A chill ran down Tony’s spine. “Who’s going to kill someone?”

“Hulk.”

Tony shut his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. He had known since the moment he met Bruce that this day would come. Bruce was fucking wacked. He had to break sometime. Tony just wished it didn’t have to be right before the Kalgoorlie Gold 1000. “Okay, Bruce. Where are you? I’ll send someone to pick you up.” The men in white coats. “And take you somewhere nice to rest for a while.” The boogey barn. “You’ll be okay, alright? I’ll come see you after I finish—”

“He’s not just in my head. He manifested somehow—he takes physical form. He’s real, Tony. He’s real!” He sounded as if he were struggling to contain his emotions. “I turn into him. I become a monster. He’s injured five soldiers—one might not walk again. He did that.” He choked up. “ _I_ did that.”

Tony couldn’t say anything. On the other end of the line, Bruce broke down. Tony wished he could hold him. “You know what to do. Go back over the experiment. Recheck everything. Find the bug and go from there.”

“I’m doing that. I can’t—I don’t know—I’m too close to it. If I send you copies of everything, would you look at it and see what you think?”

“Nuclear physics and bioengineering are your specialties—not mine.”

“But you’ll look.”

Tony sighed. No, Bruce. I will not do your homework for you. “This isn’t my thing. Now, if he were a cyborg—”

“He’s fourteen hundred pounds of green muscle and he fucking hates me.”

“Can’t you just talk to him? He’s your monster buddy from the closet, right?”

Bruce’s breath quivered. In a small voice, he said, “Remember our last day in Nassau, when I sort of tranced out at the beach?”

“Yeah.” Tony hated that Bruce was crying on the other end, on another continent, so far away. He could almost see the tears clinging to Bruce’s lashes; Bruce looked so sweet when he cried.

“I imprisoned him in a looping memory from when I was five. He’s been locked up with my father all this time—and time in the mindscape passes much slower.”

Tony wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Have you tried giving him peanut butter?”

“I’ve turned him into something so twisted—and now he’s free. He’s free and it’s my fault. All of it. People are going to die—because of me.”

Tony held the receiver with both hands. “People aren’t going to die. You’re going to stop whining. You’re going to pull on your big boy Underoos, and you’re going to fix this.” He stroked the plastic, wishing he could stroke Bruce’s head. “You’re playing on the outer fringe of science—strange things happen. It’ll be okay.”

He waited for Bruce to say something. Bruce’s breaths were the only reply. Tony cleared his throat. “So, I guess since you don’t have all of those scars anymore, I’ll have to stop calling you Freddy Krueger.”

“…you never called me that.”

“That’s right. I didn’t call you that to your face.”

A tiny huff of amusement.

“After you get your shit squared away, let’s go somewhere and do something fun. Like, I don’t know, climb Mount Everest or something.”

Bruce sniffled. “Yeah.”

“Okay. I need go humiliate some people who think they understand performance cars.”

“Good luck.”

There was something odd and déjà vu-like about everything suddenly—and for a moment, the world seemed small and time slowed. Tony felt like he was lying next to Bruce in the shabby house in Inglewood, watching the white sheers billow in the afternoon breeze. He could almost smell the pot smoke and sixteen-year-old Bruce’s nasty cigarettes. “I love you, man. I mean that.”

“I love you too.”


	3. Chapter 3

_December, 1993_  
_Grand Hotel, Stockholm, Sweden_

Alone, Tony stared out the window of his hotel room, trying to absorb Bruce’s self-deleting message. Snow, silent and cold, fell from the dark sky. Bruce had fled to prevent the government from using the monster he had inadvertently created.

Tony would do what Bruce asked—he would destroy anything that could be used to link them together. He pulled off the childish bracelet on his wrist, the one he usually covered with his watch. He squeezed it in his fist. Rat Park. That seemed like such a long time ago.

But it wasn't. And it wouldn't be long before Bruce got this monster business sorted. It might take a couple of years, but they would see each other again.

***

_May 2012_  
 _The hellicarrier_

Bruce backed against the bathroom wall and shut his eyes. He felt flushed and dizzy, and he had been harboring a barely-controlled erection for hours. Nineteen years. They hadn’t seen each other, hadn’t spoken in so long—but his body reacted to Tony as it usually did. And, although Tony had done his part to maintain the ruse that they had met for the first time only that day, Bruce felt as if they had picked up where they left off. They slipped into their old banter with ease. They worked together as if they were revamping Delilah in the canyon.

It was all so surreal. The helicarrier. The super soldier from the forties, the mythological god with a magical hammer, a strangely powerful artifact—those things didn’t faze him. But whenever Tony brushed by or leaned over his shoulder, Bruce’s cock twitched and his heart fluttered. It was embarrassing.

He needed a minute to himself. A moment of darkness and silence. A little time to get his head together. After all, this was ridiculous. They weren’t kids anymore. Things had changed.

***

Tony found Bruce leaning against the wall opposite the sinks. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Bruce blinked at him a little stupidly. “Meditating.”

Tony grinned. “There are probably no cameras in here.”

“I should hope not.” Bruce frowned up at the corners.

Tony tackled him. He wasn’t much of a hugger, but he couldn’t help himself. He had been wanting to squeeze the stuffing out of Bruce from the moment he had seen him. He laughed at Bruce’s soft grunt as he knocked into him, but then, something odd happened. Tony pressed his suddenly hot face into Bruce’s neck. He felt like he was about to cry.

So he patted Bruce’s head roughly. “Good Benji. Good boy.” He drew back before he could shed a tear and grinned in Bruce’s smirking face. “Yeah, I thought you needed a hug. You fucking baby.”

“I did. Thanks.”

Tony's eyes stung. He squeezed Bruce tightly. "You're such a little bitch, you needed another one."

Bruce rubbed Tony's back. His chin rested on Tony's shoulder. "Yeah."

Tony cleared his throat. "Yeah, so after we kick ass and take names, we'll go back to my place in New York and...and it’ll be like old times."

***

_After the Battle of New York_

One of the crew signaled Tony. "There's a Pepper calling for you, sir."

Tony ran to take the call, disappearing into another room.

Bruce looked up from his musings. “What’s Pepper? Another artificial intelligence?”

“No,” said Steve. “That’s his girlfriend.”

Bruce couldn’t help a small laugh. “I guess his other girlfriend’s Salt?”

Nick frowned at him. “No. There’s only Pepper. She’s the CEO of Stark Industries.”

Bruce’s heart sank. “Nice! Good for him. And…her. Good for both of them.” While he floundered to maintain the pretense that he found all of this amusing, he did, in fact wish them both the best. How stupid could he have been to imagine that time—and Tony—had stood still while he was in hiding? He pretended to read important data from the instruments while Nick scrutinized him too closely.

A video feed from the prisoner’s cell brought his spinning mind to a sudden halt. Loki stood alone in the middle of a spotlight like an actor on a stage, muzzled and bound with chains. Looking at him now, Bruce couldn’t see the enemy who had almost destroyed New York City. “He looks like a defiant little boy in timeout.”

Bruce zoomed in on Loki’s face, trying to see his expression better. The livid bruises on the pale skin twisted a knife through his stomach. Hulk.

Everything in his being ached for the sorcerer suddenly. How many times had he been the one, battered and in pain, grimly clinging to whatever thread of dignity life would allow him? How many times had he been the one feared? The one hated?

He found his messenger bag and dropped a bottle of water into it. “I’m going to examine the prisoner,” he told Nick as he passed him.

“Wait a minute.” Nick held up a hand.

“He’s hurt. He needs medical attention.”

“He heals at a faster rate than humans,” said Thor.

“He was badly beaten.”

Thor cocked his head. “I have seen him beaten badly before. He heals.” He winked at Nick. “Faster than you would like him to.”

They laughed. Bruce didn’t join them. He squeezed the strap of his messenger bag as he headed for the elevator. “This isn’t Gitmo. He’s hurt. I’m examining him.”

Nick balked, then shook his head. “You’re probably the only one who can.”

Bruce sighed with relief as the elevator doors closed. As Bruce descended, Thor’s words haunted him. His heart broke anew for the friendless prisoner, and he appointed himself Loki’s advocate and protector on Midgard. “The world is a cruel place for monsters,” he whispered to himself. “We should stick together."

***

_Some time later_  
 _Stark Tower, New York, NY_

Bruce found himself alone in the elevator with Tony. In Tony’s Tower. With Tony’s name on it. He felt as if he were being devoured by Tony—and not in any way he wanted. Still, Tony’s offer to house him and the other members of the team had been generous. He wondered what Pepper was like. Maybe this was an expression of her impact on Tony.

“So, Pepper, huh?” Bruce tried to smile and hoped he had succeeded.

“Yeah. She’s great.”

Bruce scratched his jaw. “Yeah, that’s…great. Good to hear it."

“Uh-huh.” Tony glanced at his watch. “Are you going to contact Betty and—”

“No, no.” Bruce stared at his shoes. “No. Um. We’re not together anymore. It’s complicated.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll bet.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t keep up the pretense completely and sighed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Thankfully, they reached their floor and the elevator doors opened. Tony handed Bruce a keycard. “I have some things, some work….” He scratched his nose. “Your room’s the last door on the left. Try not to shed all over the place.”

Bruce watched him stride away. With a sigh, Bruce explored the hallway. He poked his way into a few rooms. They were spacious and decorated with the sleek design sense of the rest of the tower. At last, he came to the room Tony had indicated was his. He opened the door and stared in disbelief. The suite was easily twice as big as any of the other rooms. The entirety of his last house could have sat in the middle of it. It was a corner suite with two floor-to-ceiling windows for walls that flooded the space with light and provided a gorgeous view of the city. A vertical, onyx fountain burbled near the huge bed which stood on a slate pedestal in the center of the room.

It was the most stylish, beautiful room Bruce had ever seen. He walked around it as if in a trance. At last, he sat on the floor at the foot of the bed and stared out the windows, overwhelmed.


	4. Chapter 4

_A few days later_

Tony stormed through the Bruce’s door. “Bruce! Jarvis sai—” He looked around the room in dismay. “What the fuck?”

Bruce, wrapped in a blanket, peeped out at him from beneath a tent made of bed linens. “Some people knock.”

“Jarvis said you were having a medical emergency.”

Bruce frowned up at the ceiling. “Great. Because I didn’t get enough of being spied on as a fugitive.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Bruce huddled deeper into his nest. “Something’s wrong with your all-seeing servant.”

“I give you a designer-decorated corner suite with huge windows, and you go all Unibomber. That’s not normal. Do you have any idea how much an apartment like this would cost if you had to pay for it?”

Bruce’s indignation melted into shame. “Tony, it’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me—and it’s a beautiful room—I’m sure most people would love it. It’s just…”

The sadness in Bruce’s voice pulled Tony to the floor. He sat outside the tent.

“I don’t love anything here. Everything is too big, too loud. Too much. I’ve lived in huge cities, but I’ve spent the last ten years in small places. I miss darkness and quiet. I miss being able to disappear.”

Tony stirred the watery lumps boiling on the hotplate. “You miss eating gruel?”

Bruce took the spoon from him. “I’m used to eating food grown by me or someone I know. The chemical nonsense that passes for food here is making me sick.”

“You have the run of the kitchen. Anything there is yours.”

“Have you read the labels on that stuff? Your kitchen’s a toxic landfill.”

Tony bit back what he started to say. Bruce did look sick. Perhaps that was what had confused Jarvis. “A lot of people are saying things like that. I’ll take you to a farmer’s market and get some ‘real’ food, and you can purge my kitchen of anything you think might be trying to kill us. You can cook with anything in there.” He batted at the wooden spoon. “This is fucking crazy. I have shit up there that would make world class chefs cream themselves. Use it.”

That didn’t seem to cheer Bruce up at all. He looked as dejected as he had before. Tony sighed. He flopped on his back and stared up at the ceiling of Bruce’s makeshift tent. “You’re spewing bad data. How do I fix you?”

At this, Bruce laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your job.”

“Don’t tell me what my job is.” He grabbed Bruce’s arm, pulled him down, and wrapped around him. He had intended to wrestle him, to be funny, but as soon as their bodies touched all he wanted to do was hold Bruce and breathe and be still.

It was so strange. Like something snapped into place. It wasn’t even sexual—but it felt primal. Suddenly, he realized Bruce was talking.

“I’m sorry for—I don’t mean to be ungrateful.” Bruce swallowed back tears. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t belong.”

“Stop.” He squeezed the scientist roughly. “Whine when I’m not here.” He wondered suddenly if Bruce didn’t feel that strange force that seemed to envelop them like gravity. It was such a heavy, deep calm. Surely—

Bruce sighed into Tony’s neck—that soft sigh of homecoming that made Tony’s chest warm. He felt it. Tony smiled. He buried his nose in Bruce’s curls and sighed himself. They held each other for a long while.

Tony gave Bruce another hard squeeze. “Instead of that Matrix goo you’re cooking, why don’t I have Jarvis find someone who’ll deliver artisanal organic pizza made with artichokes sung to by virgins, and I’ll get some real sleeping bags, and I’ll sleep here tonight.” He sat up to put his plan into action. “Do you have any weed up in this bitch? I’m going to need something to make those hippie pizzas stay down.”

“No. I’m fine with my chickpeas, and you can’t sleep here.”

“It’s my tower. I can sleep anywhere I want.”

Bruce almost smiled. “You can’t sleep with me.”

Tony bristled. “I didn’t mean like that. I meant like—like little boys having a sleepover. Remember? But we don’t need to use a ‘homo’ shield. I’m immune to your cooties, and we’ll sleep in separate sleeping bags.”

“I’m glad you’re immune to my cooties.”

“Yeah, it took several inoculations.”

Bruce rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes, laughing softly. “Good.”

Tony flopped down beside him. “I love you, bro, but I’m not eating your pea porridge. I need to get something people started eating when they didn’t hate themselves.”

“I don’t care what you eat, but we’re not having a sleepover. I can’t control Hulk when I’m asleep, and things have happened in the past—it’s too great a risk."

“I can suit up fast. And the others are just an alarm away.” He punched Bruce’s cheek lightly. “And Thor’s probably dying to kick your ass.”

“It’s too dangerous if you’re right beside me.” Bruce didn’t look playful anymore. “He could hurt you before your suit could assemble or the others could react.”

Tony snorted. “You haven’t seen how fast I can move, have you?”

“One time I turned and he caught a fucking bullet in his teeth. My finger was still on the trigger. It was that fast.”

Tony laughed with Bruce until the full impact of the story hit him. “Wait. You tried to kill yourself?”

“Spoiler alert—I failed.”

“That’s not funny."

Bruce shrugged. “It was a long time ago. It’s no big deal. But that’s how fast he can be. Think about it.”

But Tony was still hung on the notion that his best friend had wanted to commit suicide. Bruce, who loved life and had fought for his survival so many times, had wanted to end it. Tony knew Bruce had hated the transformation and hated being hunted, but he hadn’t realized until then how desperate Bruce must have been. How completely alone.

He wondered what he had been doing at exactly the same instant. Had he been racing one of his yachts or designing a new variety of gun because the world didn’t already have enough ways to murder? Or had he been fucking one of the myriad nameless flesh bags who took his cock into their various holes?

He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt as if the Hulk were sitting on it. Electricity snapped through his blood. He gasped and crawled up on his hands and knees. He couldn’t, couldn’t breathe.

“Tony!” Bruce was beside him. “Tony!”

Bruce’s frantic hands swarmed him. Tony watched his friend as if watching a movie. The entire time, he felt helpless.

“Okay, Tony. Breathe with me. Like this.”

“Fuck you,” Tony managed.

Finally, Bruce hugged Tony’s head to his chest. “Calm breaths,” Bruce said softly, his hands kneading in soothing circles. “Calm breaths, Tony. That’s good.”

Bruce’s respirations were like waves. Tony was able to float on them until he could breathe himself. He cleared his throat. “What was that?”

Bruce kissed his head and ruffled his hair. “I want to run some tests and do some blood work to rule out other possibilities, but I think you had a panic attack.”

***

_A few days later_

Bruce pushed off the floor as the door opened. Tony barged in. He didn’t even bother knocking. Bruce pushed the Hulk down with a slight shudder as Tony strolled toward him.

“Goddamnit. Still?” He flapped Bruce’s ‘tent.’

Bruce ignored him and frowned blearily at the clock. “It’s after midnight. What are you doing here?”

Tony sobered. “I feel like it’s going to happen again. My chest is tight and my arms are too light somehow.”

Bruce sat up. “Are you doing those breathing exercises?”

“They aren’t helping. I need one of those compression maneuvers. Like the other night.”

“So…basically, you’re here because you want a hug?”

Tony yanked the topmost sheet off the tent and jumped on the bed with it.

“Fuck, Tony.”

“People who live in sheet houses….”

Bruce stood up and stumbled to the bed. “Shouldn’t what?”

Tony cocked his head slightly. “Be sheet-heads.”

“Okay.” Resigned, Bruce crawled onto the bed and snuggled Tony tightly. He enjoyed the closeness of their bodies and the warmth of Tony’s breath against his neck, but the shallow rapidity of those inhalations suggested Tony actually needed compression therapy. Moved, he tightened his hold on the man. “Close your eyes,” he whispered into Tony’s hair, “and think of nothing but this moment. Focus all of your attention on being here, in this instant, with me. You hear my voice. You hear our breaths. You feel my arms around you. This is all that matters.”

He pulled Tony even closer…and silently cursed himself as his cock awakened. Dick Cheney, Rick Santorum, Ted Nugent…. That was better. He adjusted his position slightly, keeping a firm hold around Tony.

They remained still for a long time. He waited for Tony to pull away. When the inventor finally pushed himself back, Bruce released him and rolled over. Bruce thought he would leave, but Tony laid his head on Bruce’s chest. Bruce rubbed Tony’s whiskers, then gently scratched the side of his head. “You feel better?”

“Yeah.” His lightly-calloused fingers glided across Bruce’s stomach.

Rush Limbaugh, Meatloaf, Ayn Rand…. “You know, if you try mediating twice a day—”

“Meditating’s stupid. I don’t need to find my cosmic vagina or whatever.”

“We were just meditating.” He hadn’t quite succeeded in holding the irritation from his voice.

Tony turned his head to look at Bruce, scraping his chin on Bruce’s flesh.

Sarah Palin, Donald Trump…. Tony’s quizzical frown almost made Bruce laugh. “Yes, that’s what that was. You, the great and practical Tony Stark, were meditating.”

“What about our cosmic vaginas?”

“I don’t know where the hell you got that, but meditation can be very simple. You don’t have to do guided imagery, or light incense, or anything. Just focus on your breathing, stay in the moment, and sense what’s around you.” He rubbed his knuckles up the nape of Tony’s neck. “It helps,” he said very softly, melting into Tony’s intense gaze. He stroked the back of Tony’s head. “You’re going to be okay.” He wondered if his friend actually was okay. Tony had been strangely somber since the Battle of New York. The near death experience. This panic attack. Bruce worried for his friend.

Tony turned his head away and trailed a finger down Bruce’s stomach. “Your line’s gone.”

Bruce realized Tony meant his linea alba was no longer visible. “It’s…yeah.”

“It’s weird, you know, seeing you all old and soft like this. I’m still not used to it.”

“I’m not that old. I’m only a year older than you, remember?”

Tony chuckled. “That must be pretty embarrassing for you.”

Bruce's hands stopped their ministrations. “People age differently.”

“It’s worse when you’re all doughy, though.”

“I’m not doughy. I’m not fat, Tony. I’m within my BMI and—”

Tony jabbed a finger into Bruce’s navel and pulled it back and forth. The thin layer of subcutaneous fat beneath Bruce’s skin wobbled. “Dad bod!”

Tony giggled. Bruce didn’t. He wrapped himself in the sheet. “It’s late. You should leave.”

To Bruce’s great annoyance, the inventor flopped on top of him. “You’re squishy and furry. Like a teddy bear."

Bruce turned his back to Tony. Tony hung on him. They were quiet. Then Tony said Bruce’s name several times as if he were calling a dog. Bruce sighed. “I’m not talking to you.”

“Just did.”

“I’m not anymore.”

“Did again.”

“Goddamnit, Tony.”

Tony hugged him roughly. He whispered behind Bruce’s ear, “Caltech bod.”

Bruce shrugged out from under him. “Leave Caltech out of this.” He huffed as Tony wrestled him back to the mattress. They struggled for a few seconds and ended up on their sides, facing each other. Bruce stared into Tony’s grinning face. He couldn’t smile back. “Why are you trying to hurt me?”

Tony caressed Bruce’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’m not.”

Bruce held Tony’s stare. “Normal people have these things called feelings—”

“Someone needs compression therapy!”

Bruce coughed a little as Tony smothered him in a fierce hug.

A knock on the door pried them apart. “Is Tony in there?” Pepper called from outside the door.

Tony grabbed his jeans from the floor and began jerking them on. “Yeah, come in.”

Bruce wanted to hide. Instead, he just sat on the bed, wrapped up in a sheet. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he told Pepper. “He was having another panic attack and—”

“You needed to undress and get in bed together?”

“We were meditating.” Tony took her in his arms and gave her a small kiss.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Despite a note of uncertainty in her voice, she laughed.

Tony hands trailed down to her hips. “Bruce knows all kinds of medicine man shit. You have to undress for all of that stuff. Get into a natural state. Become one with your cosmic vagina.”

“There’s no cosmic vagina,” said Bruce, unable to let it pass.

Pepper tried to suppress a giggle behind one delicate hand. Tony kissed her neck. “And seriously? Bruce? If I’m gonna have a weenie rodeo it’ll be with Thor or Steve.”

Bruce smiled and hoped it looked genuine. “Maybe you two could discuss this elsewhere?”

To Bruce’s astonishment, Pepper left Tony’s arms and dropped onto the bed beside him. She smelled of wine. “Bruce.” She leaned toward him with a boozy familiarity. “I’m sorry, Bruce. He’s just like this. He says things that are harsh, but he’s not as terrible as he sounds.” She patted his sheet-covered knee, smiling. “When you get to know him better, you’ll see.”

“Yes, I’m sure once I know him better, he won’t seem like a dick at all.”

Pepper, who had turned her head to smile adoringly at Tony, flashed back at Bruce. “I wouldn’t go that far.” She grinned.  
Bruce couldn’t help joining her. She gave him a quick hug, then hopped up. “Goodnight!” She tumbled into Tony and dragged him toward the door. “Oh!” She stopped and spun around. “And you’re as attractive as any of the others.”  
“Thank you for saying that.”

“I mean it. The first time I saw you, I thought you looked like a young Marlon Brando.”

“Careful, Bruce.” Tony hung on the door. “You know what happened to him.” Tony puffed up his cheeks.

Pepper assaulted her boyfriend with admonishments, threw another heartfelt ‘goodbye’ over her shoulder to Bruce, and closed the door behind them.

Alone at last, Bruce sat on the bed he hated and watched the city that despised him through the huge windows he loathed. He couldn’t quite sort out his feelings. If Tony’s behavior hadn’t smothered any embers of attraction he felt toward the inventor, Pepper’s certainly had. He wouldn’t need Ayn Rand or Ted Nugent to curtail his body’s attraction to Tony; he would only need to think of Pepper’s wide smile and the light touch of her hand. He never liked hurting people—especially not nice ones.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce stood on the balcony with his eyes closed, cloaked in ethereal music, basking in the summer sun, and wishing he was somewhere else. He jumped a little when someone grabbed up one side of his headphones. He wasn’t completely surprised to see Tony’s smirking face.

“You like fish, right?”

“I’m a vegetarian. I’ll eat dairy, but no fish.”

“Always thinking with your stomach, huh?”

Bruce scowled and replaced his headphones. He didn’t feel like being mocked.

Tony pulled one up again. “No, you dildo. I meant live fish. Watching them.”

Bruce dropped his headphones around his neck and eyed Tony suspiciously. “What is this about, Tony?”

“Come check out my fish.”

With a small sigh, Bruce followed Tony deep into the center of Stark Tower. They walked into a dimly-lit room with no windows. It seemed to be under construction. It had been gutted. The walls were stripped and the floor was bare. A gentle light rippled from a wall comprised almost entirely of fish tank. Colorful fish shimmered in schools within the tank.

“They’re beautiful.” Bruce almost whispered, feeling as if there was something sacred about the space.

“The sound system’s state of the art.” Tony issued a command and The Cocteau Twins _Fluffy Tufts_ soared around the room.

Bruce laughed. “That takes me back.”

Tony shrugged and turned it off. “So, if I let you decorate this room however you wanted—and I paid for it—would you sleep in the fucking bed like human instead of on the floor like a labradoodle?”

“You already gave me a room.”

“Now I’m giving you a new room. Zen it all up or whatever you want. Maybe put in some beams. I don’t know. I don’t care, either. Just make it yours and stop camping.”

A chill went up Bruce’s spine. This took concern and attention—neither of which were typical of Tony. No. This present couldn’t have been Tony’s idea. “Tell Pepper not to worry about me.”

Tony frowned at him. “Pepper? What the fuck does she have to do with anything?”

“Oh, I thought this must have come from her.”

Something quiet and hurt flashed across Tony’s face. His dark eyes held Bruce’s with a bruised intensity. “Most people say ‘thank you,’ Tarzan.”

“Thank you, Tony. Sincerely. I love this—the fish, the music.” Bruce wanted to hug him, but didn’t feel right about it. Obviously, this was part of some larger plan and didn't mean anything that Bruce might have liked for it to mean. “Fuck, though, that’s going to be really expensive, letting the whole team redecorate their rooms.”

Tony’s chest heaved. He grunted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Everyone...yeah…. That’s going to be expensive. Good thing I have lots of money.”

***

_A few days later_

Bruce tried not to feel strange around Pepper. He made himself sit next to her, an end table between them, and blew on his ginger tea. She sat with her legs folded to the side, engrossed in her tablet. Behind her, the New York City skyline glowed like a million jewels in the night. Even the little sitting area outside the tower’s main kitchen had a dramatic view.

Other than a murmured ‘hi,’ she ignored him. Bruce enjoyed the silence, even if it was awkward. He sipped his tea, pondering. With enough time and exposure, this wouldn’t be weird. He liked Pepper. Genuinely liked her. There was no reason why they couldn’t be friends.

Pepper stirred up suddenly. “Didn’t you used to date Betty Ross?”

“We were practically married. Where did you hear about that?”

She smiled—a friendly, unvarnished smile. “I do my homework. I’ve been trying to learn more about all of the heroes living here.”

“Hero.” He couldn’t help scoffing. “I guess I’m one of them.”

She rolled her eyes. “Enough with the modesty. Seriously, though, I guess you know about the whole military secrets scandal and her exile from the U.S.?”

“Yes. I tried to check on her when I could, see what was happening in her life.” He bristled slightly. “From what I can tell, she’s a whistleblower and being wrongfully persecuted.”

“I agree.” Pepper’s eyes were clear and bright. “Some people say she’s a traitor, but she seems more like a patriot to me. The way our government is treating her is shameful.”

Bruce fell in love with Pepper a little. Even the LGBTQ community was divided in their support of the transwoman. “It is. I know what it’s like to be persecuted. I hate that it’s happening to her. I’m just glad she’s in a country with no extradition treaty and seems to be doing well there.”

“You still care about her.”

“We were close.”

She leaned toward him with a concerned expression. “She’s in the news again, Bruce.”

Bruce felt sick suddenly. He mentally braced himself. “Oh, no. Did something happen—” He couldn’t make himself finish the sentence.

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s not bad, it’s just—” She handed him her tablet. “She and that internet billionaire she’s been seeing just adopted a child. The news has caused another scandal. You seem so sensitive—I just worried about you.”

Bruce stared at the first picture above the article. Betty looked as fierce and glamorous as ever. She clutched a toddler girl to her chest with an expression only a lioness could equal. A pasty man with glasses had his arm around Betty and a hand on the little girl’s arm. He looked legitimately happy. In another picture, he held the child while Betty gazed at him.

Bruce released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “She’s happy.” He smiled at Pepper and handed her tablet back. “The article says she’s designing educational software for autistic children. She’s always wanted to do something like that. And she’ll be a great mother. And she obviously loves that weird little man.”

“Why do you say that?”

“That second photo. She used to look at me like that.”

Pepper made a small, sympathetic noise.

Bruce tapped the side of his cup. “It’s fine. I want her to be happy. It’s hard enough to be trans without loving a guy who turns into a hulk or having your country demonize you. She deserves to be happy.”

They sat with the silence that followed that for a moment, then Pepper said gently, “So do you.”

He stared at her, unsure.

“New York is a fun city. You should get out and enjoy it.”

***

_A few weeks later_

Tony was about to get on the elevator when Bruce and a tall blond guy walked out. Bruce was wearing little black vinyl shorts and a studded bulldog harness. He had the blond on a leash. The blond, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, wore a pink collar, a pink headband with doggie ears, nipple clamps, rainbow shorts, and furry rainbow leg warmers. “Hey, Bruce. Hey, Lassie.”

“Tony, this is Madison. Madison, this is Tony.”

“Arf! Arf!” said Madison.

“Uh, he’s an actor.” Bruce blushed. “He’s very method.”

“Yeeah.” Tony let the elevator doors close.

***

_A week later_

Tony was waiting for the elevator when the doors opened. Bruce, dressed in a yellow jumpsuit with a sequined green peace symbol with his arm around a slight young man wearing a purple dinosaur onesie, beamed at him. Tony looked the pair up and down. “Hey, Bruce. Hey, Barney.” 

“Tony, this is Henry. Henry, this is Tony.” 

“Iron Man!” Before anyone could say anything else, Henry bobbed up beside Tony and took a selfie. “Iron Man!” He threw his arms around Bruce and growled. “Hulk!” 

“I have fanboys.” Bruce smiled faintly. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “And they all seem to be in their early to mid twenties.” 

“Actually, most of them are four to eight, but that’s disgusting.” 

Henry took a selfie with Bruce, then another with Tony. “Is Spiderman here?” 

Tony shook his head negatively. “That’s another studio.” 

“I love New York,” said Bruce. 

“You seem to be loving a lot of things.” 

“Smash! Smash!” yelled Henry and skipped off to Bruce’s room as if he knew the way.

***

_A week later_

Tony was about to board the elevator, when Bruce and a very bearded man with huge glasses walked out. This one’s name was Ian, and he had to use his inhaler after Tony said ‘hi’ to him. 

As Tony walked into the elevator, he clapped Bruce on the shoulder. “So far, this one’s my favorite.”

***

_A week later_

As Tony watched, the elevator doors opened and Bruce, wearing a yellow shirt and ugly cargo shorts, stood holding hands with a tall blond wearing a bib that said, ‘Daddy’s boy’ and a lit-up diaper with flashing ducks on it. 

“Lassie, right?” 

The blond man pulled out his oversized pink pacifier. “Madison. I’m a model.” 

“I thought you were an actor.” 

Bruce frowned at Tony, blinking. “Uh…uh…no, that was a couple of weeks ago. This week, he’s a model…. How did you remember that?” 

Tony scoffed. “I’m a genius. Hello?! Somebody’s partying too hard. Better whip out the gingko biloba, Caltech.” 

Madison gave a little shimmy and rubbed Bruce’s arm. “Oooo. Gingko Biloba. Is that what you named your new truncheon?” 

With a flush of embarrassment, Bruce led Madison out of the elevator. “No, marmalade. Daddy will explain later.” 

Tony entered the elevator. “Dating gorgeous, brainless models half his age. Some people have no self-respect.”

***

_A few weeks later_

Tony found Bruce on the terrace, staring out at the night. “You’re not in your lab or out with your boy toys.” 

Bruce turned and smiled up at him. “I needed to clear my head.” 

Tony joined him. They stood side by side for a while, silent, watching the city lights. Bruce leaned into the wind as it gusted and closed his eyes, as blissful as a retriever with its head out a car window. Tony smiled at him. “Simple pleasures, huh?” 

Bruce blinked at him as if surprised to find him there. “Yeah.” He looked at his shoes. “I guess.” 

“Yeah.” Tony sighed. “You know how to appreciate the good things in life. Night air, warm bed, water from the toilet….” 

“You know you suck, right?” 

Tony sprawled on the nearby lounge chair and stared up at the hazy night sky. “Why aren’t you out tonight? Did the city finally run out of Hulk fanboys?” He couldn’t see Bruce blush, but he was fairly certain he had. 

“I’m tired. I just wanted a night in.” 

“Being popular’s not as much fun as you thought, is it?” 

Bruce sat on the other chair sideways, his feet on the ground. “No, that part’s wonderful, honestly. It’s all of the rest of it that sucks. The same old thing, only different.” 

Tony didn’t say anything. He waited to see if Bruce would continue. But Bruce didn’t. Tony cracked his knuckles. “That blond kid’s really into you.” 

“Madison.” Bruce sighed a laugh. “He’s a nice boy. Obedient.” 

“You sound like his kindergarten teacher. He’s hot. Even I know. He’s hot and he looks at you like Thor looks at Pop Tarts.”

“Yeah.” Bruce played with his hoodie’s zipper. “He’s very attractive, and he’s sweet…. It’s just…he’s rather dim and kind of boring.” 

Tony died laughing. >

“I know. It’s funny. I would have killed to have these kinds of problems when I was sixteen.” He wenged a little. “But I’m not sixteen. I want someone I can talk to, someone who understands nucleosynthesis.” He ducked his head, grinning. “ _And_ is hot.” 

“Huh.” 

“Yeah.” Bruce sighed and flopped back on the chair. “I keep…fantasizing—I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it—all of these guys are so lifeless in comparison—” 

Tony tried to contain his knowing smile. 

“Loki had that magnetism. And he’s obviously highly intelligent. And witty. And he has a great fashion sense.” 

Tony sat up to glare at his friend. “Loki?! Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yeah, I know, someone like that—I mean, even if it were possible—” 

“Your taste in men is about as fucked up as your taste in clothes.” 

“That’s harsh.” 

“Not even close.” 

“I don’t know why I should expect you to understand. You lucked out with Pepper. She’s amazing. Smart, funny, warm, pretty.” The longing in Bruce’s voice could have been for an equally qualified partner. Or it could have been something else.

Tony felt strangely sorry for the scientist, but he couldn’t deal with him anymore and left him on the balcony.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Dubcon kissing.

_A few months later_

Tony, sitting at the bar by the glass wall, looked up from his tablet as Bruce entered the kitchen. As Bruce made coffee and puttered about the kitchen, Tony went back to his tablet. The activity in the kitchen continued. Bruce hummed as he worked, singing a lyric or two intermittently. _Someone Like You_ Adele. Jesus.

“Remember: Natasha’s gone gluten-free, Steve’s all raw, and Thor hates boysenberries.”

“And Clint’s allergic to carob.” Bruce scoffed as he fluffed egg whites. “Which is utter bullshit because no one’s allergic to carob. He just doesn’t like it.”

A hand snaked up the back of Tony’s neck. He tensed all over for an instant, but relaxed at Pepper’s voice. “So you can remember all of that, but not that I’m allergic to strawberries?” She kissed behind his ear.

Bruce looked up with a sideways grin. “Getting in a little ball-busting before breakfast?”

Pepper laughed and glided over to the scientist to inspect his efforts. She was dressed for work—effortlessly elegant even in her business attire. Tony watched her and Bruce chitchat. They looked so comfortable together. He wondered if it was truly that easy for Bruce. Poor Bruce.

The others dragged in and assembled sleepily around the bar. Still talking to Pepper, Bruce set things in front of them—cups of coffee, fresh fruit, hot muffins. Natasha never turned from the sunrise as he placed a kale omelet in front of her. The others barely said a word, except Clint, who sniffed his muffin suspiciously. Pepper grinned at him. “It’s chock full of carob.”

Bruce shook his head at her. “You ruined the surprise.”

“I’m allergic to carob,” said Clint, turning around in his seat to eye Bruce.

Natasha chimed in grimly without taking her eyes off the window. “No one’s allergic to carob.”

Pepper giggled. Bruce hastened to reassure Clint that the muffin was carob-free. Tony watched them all with an odd feeling he couldn’t place. Pepper hung on him and lightly scratched the nape of his neck with her nails. She startled a little, catching a gasp in her throat.

A scruffy man lumbered into the kitchen. He wore a motorcycle jacket, ripped jeans, and a surly expression. He addressed Bruce with a low growl. “Thought I smelled you in here.”

Bruce smirked and handed him a muffin and a cup of coffee. “Everybody, this is Logan. Logan, Pepper and the Avengers.”

As a slow chorus of ‘hi’s arose from around the bar, Logan shrugged. A blade shot out from one of his knuckles with the sound of a sword being drawn from a scabbard. Bruce giggled and slid a slice of blood orange onto it as if he were making a kabob. Logan smirked at him, then downed his coffee and leered at the others. “You bunch of weirdos with your cult compound. At least we have the excuse of our headquarters being a school.” He turned again to Bruce and slid a hand, still decorated with the orange slice, down the small of his back. “Maybe we’ll do this again sometime.”

“Yeah. I’ll walk you out.”

Logan hesitated. “Can I get another one of those muffins?”

Bruce grabbed one and wrapped it hastily in a paper towel. He escorted his new friend away, rubbing a hand between those broad shoulders. Tony frowned as the others began tittering. He started the morning meeting without Bruce. As Tony expected, the scientist caught up with them soon enough once he had returned.

Once the meeting had ended and the others had dispersed, Bruce cleared away the plates. Tony stayed to watch Bruce clean up. “So, I guess that’s a rough ride.”

Bruce, scrubbing dishes, colored slightly. “Not so much.”

“You have scratches on your back?”

“No.”

“Fleas?”

That earned him a peeved expression.

“You’re getting into some weird shit, aren’t you?”

Bruce sighed. “Not really.” He looked around to make sure they were alone. “We kissed a little, I gave him a blowjob, he started crying….”

Tony bit his lips together.

Bruce, scrubbing cutlery, didn’t seem to notice. “He’s in love with this woman and—” He glanced up with a slight growl, “Have I mentioned I kind of hate bisexuals?” He shook his head, sighing. “So, he’s in love with this woman who loves another man, and he can’t seem to move past it. Poor guy. I guess he felt comfortable enough with me to talk about it, so that’s kind of what we did the rest of the night. I mean, he read me some of his poetry, but it’s all about that situation—”

“He writes poetry?”

Bruce had the gall to look affronted. “Yes.”

Tony burst out laughing. He had to hold to the countertop to keep from rolling on the floor.

“It’s not funny.”

“More.” Tony gasped and wiped his eyes. “Tell me there’s more.”

Bruce hesitated. He polished a fork. “He loves Adele, so we listened to music and I held him until he fell asleep.” He stared at the fork. “The tough ones are often so sensitive. I was kind of counting on that, but…you know, _sometimes it hurts instead._ ”

Tony giggled. He wasn’t sure if Bruce had intended that to be funny, but it was fucking hilarious. “So that was it? He got a blowjob, and you got—you got more than just poetry, right?”

“I got even better acquainted with my hand.”

Tony almost hit the floor again. He stopped after a few minutes because Bruce’s sad smile kind of knocked the fun out of him. “That’s fucked up.”

“It was okay. He’s a nice guy.” He sighed heavily. “I was so excited about that adamantium skeleton and his regenerative ability. And he’s not exactly my type, but he’s hot and—it doesn’t matter now. It would have been too much to expect that I could form a relationship with someone the Hulk can’t kill.”

Tony sobered completely. Bruce’s smile barely wavered, but sadness weighed on his voice and shadowed his eyes. Tony wanted to comfort him. “Yeah.”

Bruce poured them some more coffee. They usually took their second cup together. Bruce leaned against the refrigerator and stared into his steaming cup. “But going to sleep holding him—having another person in my arms again—and feeling safe enough to fall asleep like that. That was worth blue balls and an unceremonious jerk off in the bathroom.” He grinned a bit feebly at Tony. “So, it wasn’t a bad night, all things considered.”

***

_New Year’s Eve, 2012_

Bruce’s laptop said it was 11 pm. He closed it and slipped it into a drawer of his nightstand, then snuggled deeper into his blankets. He left the music off and just enjoyed the silence. The fish swam peacefully in the tank wall, and the soft light from the tank cast rippling reflections around the room.

He could have been out in the city, ringing in the new year. He could have been at Tony’s New Year’s Eve extravaganza. He wanted to be alone. A few scholarly articles, some herbal tea, his fish. It was a relaxing night in.

Tony, wearing a tuxedo, burst through the door. He commanded the lights on. Bruce sat up and with an admonishment on his lips, but then he saw Tony’s face. The inventor’s eyes were wide with fear and his clammy skin was tinged with grey. He stared at Bruce in wordless pain.

Bruce helped him onto the bed. He wrapped Tony in blankets and his own body. Tony dropped his forehead on Bruce’s bare chest. They lay crushed against each other, Bruce, nude, Tony, fully dressed and still in his shoes.

“Feel my breaths. Deep breaths. Slow and deep.” He held Tony tightly. “Slow and deep. Let our breaths drown out everything else. There’s just us. Just you and me. Breathing. Here. In this moment. Just breathing.”

Tony heaved a scotch-scented breath. “I left all of those people….”

“Nothing matters but us and this moment. Focus on my breaths. Your breaths.”

“Why does this keep happening to me?”

“Didn’t your doctor say you had PTSD?”

“He said to watch for triggers. There weren’t any fucking triggers. I was at a fucking party having fun with a few hundred of my closest friends. There were no fucking triggers.” He gasped in anguish.

“Don’t try to talk. Breathe.” He tightened his hold on the inventor. Tony quieted. They lay in each other’s arms while the fish swayed about in their underwater world.

After a long while, Tony kissed Bruce’s chest and pulled his face up, level with Bruce’s. “This sucks,” he said softly, but with more emotion than people usually utter such words.

“They have medications—”

“Former drug addict. No fucking way.” He sighed. “I’m not weak. This is bullshit.”

Bruce stroked Tony’s hair. “Of course, you’re not weak. You’re Tony Fucking Stark. You’re made of iron and attitude. You’re my best friend and the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

Tony caressed Bruce’s jaw. “Not like there’s a lot of competition. I’m really your only friend.”

“Anxiety is a terrible thing. Author Andrew Solomon compares it to the feeling you get when you almost fall and catch yourself—but it lasts for hours. He said if someone told him he would be depressed for a month, he could handle it. If someone told him he would have anxiety for a month, he would kill himself.”

“I used to think people who complained about it just wanted attention. Or that they were weak.”

“You’re just trying to cope with something. You’ll get through it.”

Tony gazed at him blearily, lovingly. His fingers feathered through Bruce’s chest hair and brushed against a nipple. Bruce gave a short gasp. Tony smirked and pinched Bruce’s suddenly painfully erect nipple. “Forgot how sensitive your nips are. Fuck, it’s a diamond cutter.” He squeezed Bruce’s pec, kneading it. “You’ve been working out, huh?”

Waves of lust rolled through Bruce’s stomach. He hardened and couldn’t speak. His brain roared.

“Mmmm…platonic snuggles.” Tony sighed against him. “I love you, Bruce. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, really.”

Bruce’s body felt as it were on fire. He brushed his lips against Tony’s.

Tony snickered. He kissed Bruce back. “Platonic kisses.”

Bruce’s breath husked in the back of his throat. There was nothing platonic about the things he wanted to do….  
The door flew open. Pepper stumbled into the room. She stared at the pair.

Tony, still—thankfully—fully clothed, sprang out of bed. “My prescription for panic attacks—platonic snuggles with Dr. Banner!”

“Happy 2013,” Pepper said, with only the thinnest enthusiasm.

“Happy 2013!” Tony roared. “Let’s celebrate!”

Pepper, still looking slapped, hesitated as Tony pulled her toward the door. “Thank you for taking care of him, Bruce.” With a touch of venom, she added, “Maybe next time you can keep your clothes on.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some overlap with "A Bag of Cats for Reindeer Games" in my "A Marvelish Romance" series. For those of you who read both series, please don't freak out. It's going to be okay in both series. I've got this--I swear.

_Early January 2013_

Tony frowned as Bruce handed him his keycard. Bruce pulled two large trunks behind him and had a bloated messenger bag slung across his chest. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Tony asked him.

“I got an apartment. I’m moving out.”

Tony grinned. Bruce was cute sometimes. “Apartments cost money. With what S.H.I.E.L.D. pays us, you couldn’t rent a cardboard box in the city.”

“I got a job.”

“You did what?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “I’m an adjunct professor at Columbia.”

“They wouldn’t even make you a full professor?”

Bruce just stared at him. His jaw flexed. He jabbed the card at Tony. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I need my own space.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me with my panic attacks.”

With a sigh, Bruce’s gazed dropped to his shoes. “Tony…how many times do I have to tell you—I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“You’re better. You’ve had to deal with a lot of this kind of stuff yourself.” Tony shrugged. “The doctors—I’m five times smarter than any of them. They all kind of suck. You suck too, but not as much. And I’m only twice as smart as you.”

Bruce looked like he was going to a funeral. “There’s nothing we do that you can’t do by yourself.”

“What about compression therapy?”

“Tony. They make vests—”

Tony wanted to punch Bruce suddenly. He stuffed the card in his jeans and turned away. “Yeah, whatever. You run or withdraw from anything difficult. That’s sorta your ‘go to’ move—flee.”

Bruce had some sort of little shit fit behind him. “Tony fucking Stark!” Tony turned in time to see him kick his luggage. “Goddamnit, Tony. That’s not fair.”

“It’s true.”

Bruce held his stomach and looked as if Tony _had_ hit him. “Tony, if you think this is easy for me….” He looked close to tears. “I need to live my own life.”

Tony scoffed. “Who said you aren’t?”

“I want us—” Bruce swallowed. “—to be friends, but…I need…space. My space.”

“Nobody uses MySpace anymore.”

“Okay.” Bruce gave him the smallest of smiles. “I have to catch a bus. I love you, bro.”

“Not enough.”

“I’m not far away.”

Tony sighed. “Yeah. Later.” He couldn’t help himself suddenly. “Bruce, the aquarium room is yours. It’s yours for as long as I own Stark Tower.”

Bruce looked at him a little strangely. “Um. Thanks. Thanks, Tony.”

***

_May 2013_  
 _Bruce’s small Manhattan apartment_

“DON’T fuck him!”

“Goddamnit, Tony.” Bruce folded the blueberries into the batter and sighed at his phone on the countertop. “I’m not going to fuck him. I’m going to rehabilitate him.”

“You’ve been obsessed with him since Hulk fought him.”

That was true. But that wasn’t why he was taking in Loki. “Look, I’m doing this in the interest of science, really. I believe I’ve developed a special program—”

“So, you’re trying to pass this off as an experiment?”

“Right.”

“Because you have such a good track record with crazy experiments.”

“It’s a rehabilitation program.”

“It’s called magical cock. You’re going to introduce the subject to your magical cock and fuck the evil out of him.”

“He isn’t evil.”

“Fucking wow.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Bruce carefully poured the batter into the muffin pan.

“You and Thor should never work together. You’re both delusional.”

“He said his brother was wasting away in Asgard.”

“Good.”

Bruce sucked some batter from his finger. “Can you try to be supportive? Please?”

“That’s a huge ask. You know it is.”

Bruce sighed. “Look, they’ll be here any minute. I don’t want to argue with you.” He put the muffin pan in the oven and shut the door.

“What was that sound?” Tony’s voice was tense.

“That was the oven door. I had to put my muffins in.”

“…Bruce?”

Bruce set the timer. “Yeah?”

“You’re about to have a genocidal war criminal remanded into your custody, so you’re baking him muffins.”

“Blueberry.”

“Well, at least you’re taking some precautions.”

Bruce sighed. “I know you don’t understand this. You’ve never been hated. But I honestly believe I can help him, and, I can’t explain it—but if I can get this right—you know that feeling you get when you fix something? It’s like if I can fix this, everything else will snap into place. The other problems will make sense suddenly.”

The phone was quiet for so long that Bruce had to check to make sure they hadn’t been disconnected. “I’ll smooth things over with Nick and the others.” Tony’s voice sounded strangely somber. “But, listen to me, Bruce, when this blows up in your face—and you know it will—remember that it’s okay to fail.”

***

_December 2013_  
 _Stark Tower, Lab 3_

Tony searched the lab for a box big enough for Bruce’s wood. Bruce just stood there, watching him, beaming, cradling the birch log as if it were a baby. “Thank you so much for this,” Bruce gushed for the thirteenth time since Tony gave him the log. “This is the best Christmas present ever!”

Tony smirked up at him. “If only Pepper were this easy to please.” He found something he thought would work and set it on the nearest table. Bruce put the log next to it, placing it carefully, as if it were precious. Tony grinned and pulled out a bottle of scotch and some glasses. He poured them each a double.

He had never seen Bruce look so happy. It seemed every time he saw him now, the scientist looked exponentially happier. Bruce and Loki had been together nearly two months. If this kept up, Bruce would turn into to some being of pure bliss and disappear before next Christmas.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone I gave you wood for Christmas.”

Bruce, in the middle of drinking, choked, laughing. “You can’t tell anyone that.”

“What is the deal with this again? Why did I have to give it to you?”

“It’s an old Norse tradition. Each Yule, you burn a Yule log, but it’s bad luck unless someone gives it to you—or it comes from your land. So, I needed you to give it to me.” He stroked the delicate white bark. “Different woods have different meanings. Birch symbolizes new beginnings. I missed the solstice, but I’m going to burn it Christmas Eve, in the fire pit on the roof.”

“Give ‘em a little Asgard in New York. I get it.”

Bruce grinned into his glass. “It’s silly, really, but I created this whole ritual-thing for him. Like, technically, you’re supposed to sacrifice goats, so I bought these frosted animal crackers and—”

“You’re going to sacrifice animal crackers?”

“He loves sweets. I think he’ll like it. You know, it’s playful. And I found some mead, and—it’ll be fun, I think.” He sipped his scotch. “What are you and Pepper doing? Skiing?”

“I have a private island near the Keys, I thought we’d do something laid back and kind of tropical.”

“That sounds fabulous! She’ll love that.”

“Maybe some time, maybe, you two can join us.” For a second, Tony couldn’t believe he had said that. But a second later, watching Bruce’s eyes light up even brighter, he knew it couldn’t have felt more right.

“That would be great! Pepper and Loki seem to like each other—that would so nice.” He laughed. “Us—taking couples vacations together.” He sighed happily, staring at Tony with wide brown eyes. “I love you, bro.”

“Yeah, you should. I gave you wood for Christmas.” Tony put the log in the box. “You two are coming to the party tomorrow, right?”

***

_The next night_  
 _Stark Tower_

Tony pressed the code on his phone to display the balcony on the television. There. Now they could all watch Bruce and Loki quarrel. He ignored Pepper’s disapproving frown. “This seems wrong,” said Steve. “I think we should give them some privacy.”

“This is my tower. My name’s on it. If they want privacy they can go fight in their crappy apartment.” He turned up the volume slightly. “Besides, it’s for security reasons. It’s for their own good.” He shrugged. “It’s also great entertainment.”  
Thor, holding a gift bag full of stuffed toy cats, scowled at the screen. “I never intended this. It was supposed to be amusing.”

Tony mimicked Loki’s confused expression and mimed pulling cats out of the bag. Natasha giggled. “It was until they started arguing.” She winced slightly, however, as she watched the quarrel on the balcony unfold. “I don’t think that’s going well.”

“How could your brother possibly find that humorous?” Steve had his back to the screen.

“Banner said it. It was funny. Loki likes jokes. I thought he would enjoy knowing that his boyfriend had a sense of humor sometimes.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and said nothing. Steve just stared at Thor. “How long have you known your brother?”

Tony sipped his scotch and turned up the volume slightly.

“I thought we covered this already,” Bruce, on the snow-covered balcony, told Loki. “It’s the past. I don’t think that now. And it wasn’t really all that bad was it? I mean, I like cats. I didn’t say your brain was like a bag of Justin Biebers. Or global warming deniers. I said cats. Soft, sweet fuzzy cats.” He swept a hand like a languorous tail around Loki’s neck and tickled down his collar.

Loki pulled away from him. “But that’s NOT what you meant! Sweet, fuzzy—NO. You—”

“Said something in jest that maybe wasn’t so nice. YOU were invading my planet. Who’s the bigger douche in this equation?”

Loki stared at Bruce with shock-widened eyes. “You just called me a douche.”

Bruce buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Fucking hell, Loki. You’re the god of melodrama.” He heaved a breath, steam rising around his head. “I don’t want to do this now. Let’s call a truce, have a drink. Relax. Maybe try to remember that we came here to have fun?”

Loki flicked a cold gaze Bruce’s way. The sorcerer’s face was grim and tight, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to do this ever. This was all a mistake. From the very start—a mistake.”

“What are you—” Bruce cocked his head like a confused dog. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I would have thought you would catch onto that a little faster, but, yes. It’s over.”

Bruce stared at Loki as if expecting a punchline. Nothing in Loki’s demeanor suggested this was a joke. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Deathly so.”

“This is how you want to do this? Here? Now?”

“What? I’m observing the proper etiquette. I didn’t text you.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this over a stupid joke.”

“Actually, I’m doing it over an offhand remark.”

“Turn it off,” said Pepper. “Tony, this is wrong.”

Tony swirled the ice in his glass. “It’s just getting good.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Overlaps with "A Bag of Cats for Reindeer Games."
> 
> If you read both series--and especially if you love "A Marvelish Romance"--please read the bolded part. That explains everything. Yes, I will have my cake and eat it too.

_December 2013_  
_Stark Tower_

For the first time, Bruce noticed the cold. Tiny flakes of snow floated through the freezing night air. Inside, his friends moved about the bright, red-splashed room. The lights, the warmth, the life inside contrasted with the frosty stillness of the balcony where he and Loki stood like statues, like strangers. “You can’t do this,” he said finally.

“I am. I did. It’s done.”

Bruce sank his hands into his pockets. He watched Loki’s face, wanting to remember every beautiful, cruel line of it. Snow had begun to frost the sorcerer’s dark hair. He took a deep breath and watched it billow in front of him before speaking. “I understand you’re hurt and angry, but everything else has been so good. You can’t just throw that away.”

Loki pulled his arms across his chest in a gesture somehow very reminiscent of a black and white era starlet adjusting her mink stole. “It’s not as if it’s been a long time—almost two months. That’s nothing even by your gnat-brained human standards. To me, it’s been less than an eye blink. I’ve taken longer picking out socks.”

“I should have seen this coming. You almost never tell me you love me.” He shrugged and pulled his hands out to blow on them. “Because you don’t. For a god of lies, you have an endearing honesty about you.” Loki looked at him, but said nothing. Bruce huddled against the railing.

Silence deepened as the snow fell. Finally, he said, “If this is what you want, I’ll stay here tonight. You can gather your things at the apartment and sleep there. Stay there as long as you need to. I’ll figure something out.” He closed his eyes and tried to think quiet thoughts.

***

**Here, as it has happened many times before and will happen many times again, the universe pivoted on a single, small decision—and ripped itself apart like a cell dividing. In one universe, Bruce’s surrender reminded Loki of when, he, himself, had released his hold on the bridge in Asgard, so desolate and betrayed that he would let the darkness swallow him. And in that universe, this empathy moved the trickster god to remember why he and Bruce had fallen in love in the first place. They made up, stayed together, and lived as happily as a couple can live on Midgard.**

**In the other universe, however, Loki’s heart remained cold. Instead of empathizing with Bruce’s acquiescence, he felt sickened by it, deciding that Bruce wasn’t truly in love if he would give up on their relationship so easily. And** _that_ **is the universe where the rest of our story takes place.**

***

“Oh,” Pepper said very softly. “Poor things.” A strange silence had descended over the party. The festive lights, merry and bright a moment ago, seemed garish and odd.

“Fuck.” Clint, eyes glued to the screen, sat back with his beer. “It’s like when you pass a car accident and see body bags. You know you should look away, but….”

Steve was up in Tony’s face suddenly. “Turn it off.”

But then Loki was shouting, his voice broadcast, not only by the speakers, but in a muffled form through the glass doors. “You’re just like the rest of them! You’re so quick to turn your back! You don’t believe in me. You don’t and you never have.”

On the screen, Bruce turned to Loki. Loki smacked him across the face.

“Fucking finally.” Tony looked around the bar. “What happened to the popcorn?”

Steve glowered at him. “You’re sick.”

“I didn’t bitch slap Bruce. It’s not my fault Hulk’s going to toss Loki around like a rottie with a toy squirrel.” But when he looked at the screen, there was no sign of Hulk. There was only Loki, shrilling nonsense about being unloved while he slapped Bruce around. “What the fuck is Bruce doing?”

“He’s resisting the bait,” said Natasha quietly.

“This is bullshit.” Tony’s suit began to assemble around him.

Steve stood up. “Maybe we should let them work it out.”

Tony ignored him. He strode to the balcony and threw open the glass doors. Bruce was crouched on his hands and knees, dripping blood in the snow. Loki stood over him. Tony shot a blast between them. “Get away from him, Reindeer Games.”

“Something’s wrong with his magic.” Loki scowled down at Bruce. “Perhaps it’s the snow. Had I known this secret, all of Midgard would be on bended knee.”

“It’s not the snow, you idiot. He’s trying not to hurt you.” Tony could barely contain his outrage. “How could you do that to him knowing all of the things that happened?”

Bruce spit blood. “He doesn’t know. I never told him.”

“More secrets!” said Loki. “More lies! Did you ever say an honest word to me? Ever?”

Bruce sat on his butt in the snow, holding his head. “I love you. That’s never been a lie.”

“Goddamnit, Bruce.” Tony rounded on him. “Grow a pair.”

Loki sniffed in amusement. “Your attempts at reconciliation _are_ pathetic.”

“I’m not trying to reconcile,” Bruce said stiffly. “I’ve spent so much of my life trying not to let the Hulk hurt anyone, trying to protect the people I loved— We can’t go back now. You crossed a line—I love you, Loki. I’ll help you as much as I can, but I can’t be with you.”

Loki glowered at Bruce. “I broke up with _you_. That means I won.”

“You won, alright.” Tony smirked at the sorcerer. “You won a one-way trip to a cell in Asgard.” He called over his shoulder. “Thor! Take your psycho brother home.”

Bruce scrambled to his feet. “No, no, no. Loki stays on Midgard. This was between the two of us—it has no bearing on his living here. He was pardoned. And he’s doing well. No one said he had to be with me.”

“I’m kind of wanting to slap you around myself.” Despite the quip, Tony’s chest tightened as he looked at Bruce. “He hurt you. He doesn’t get any say in what happens next.”

“He didn’t hurt me!”

“I didn’t hurt him!” snarled Loki.

Tony sighed, disgusted. “Right, he bleeds when he’s happy.”

“Loki’s strong,” said Bruce. “He could have taken off my head if that’s what he had wanted.”  


“Banner speaks the truth,” said Thor, walking up beside Tony. “Loki could kill a human with one blow.”

Bruce nodded at Thor. “Thank you.”

Thor nodded back. “With Loki’s magical abilities he could probably kill several dozen humans at once if he wished.”

“Not helping,” said Bruce.

“Right.” Tony clapped his hands. “So, it’s off to Asgard!”

Loki fumed. “I didn’t kill several dozen humans. I didn’t even kill Bruce—”

“We’re only sending you home, Reindeer Games. When dogs bite their masters, we put them down.” Tony grinned at Loki’s aghast expression. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the veiled threat or because of the comparison. Either way it was kind of great.

Then Bruce jumped in. “He’s not a dog and I’m not his master.” He stood in front of Loki, facing Tony and Thor. “And no one’s taking him back to Asgard.”

Loki snorted. “If you’re trying to impress me, you’re too late.”

“It’s too late for a lot of things.” Bitterness soaked Bruce’s voice, but he remained planted in front of Loki and never took his eyes off Tony. “This was a private conversation—”

As Thor started to say something, Tony said, “You’re right. Loki should stay on Earth until he really fucks up.” He clapped a hand on Thor’s back. “Stefan, escort Damian back to Bruce’s apartment to make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble tonight.” He grinned at Bruce. “And you’ll sleep here—with the fishes.”

Bruce didn’t respond to the joke. His eyes were fastened to Loki. “I love you,” Bruce told him. “Nothing can change that.”

Loki gave him a flippant smile. “So you say. You didn’t even love me enough to get angry.”

Tony hauled Bruce aside before the scientist started groveling at the stunted frost giant’s feet. “Get out of here, Loki.” 

To Bruce he whispered, “Don’t tie your balls up in a bow for him. Respect yourself, huh?” Bruce didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move. He also didn’t take his eyes off Loki. Tony watched Bruce’s anxious, blood-smeared face as Thor led his brother away. “You look like you could use a drink. We’re having a Christmas party inside….”

Bruce finally made eye contact. “I’m a shitty guest even when I don’t hulk out. I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shut the television off from his suit. “The holidays make everyone crazy.” He patted Bruce’s shoulder. “Let’s see how many eggnogs it takes for Clint to lose his underwear.”

Bruce stared at him in silence. Snowflakes caught in the blood coagulating in his eyelashes. A tremor rolled over his shoulders.

“Go hulk-out in Lab Three.”

“I have him under control.”

“Won’t you heal if you turn?”

Bruce gave a dismissive snort. “I’m fine.”

Tony frowned at him. He shouldn’t have cared what Bruce did—he wasn’t Bruce’s mom—but he felt a strange surge of protectiveness. He leaned close. “If you don’t let him break some stuff, he’ll tear you apart.”

A moment of softness darkened Bruce’s wary eyes. He ducked his head and was off to the lab. Tony poured himself a double shot of scotch as the others milled about and seemed to be trying to normalize. As he sipped wordlessly, a loud crash issued from somewhere below. He could feel the vibrations through the soles of his shoes.

Pepper winced with each concussion. Tony tried to reassure her. “It’s all right. We reinforced the walls. And the floor. And the ceiling.” As the thumping continued, he turned up the music. His guests, however, continued to stare at the floor with morbid expressions. Instead of a holiday party, it looked like a wake.

A particularly savage growl echoed from below. Tony sighed and filled his glass. “Whenever you throw a party, there’s always that one friend….”

***

_Later that night_

Tony knocked on Bruce’s door. “You asleep?”

“Sorta.” The answer was sleepy and muffled. “I’m okay. Goodnight.”

Tony opened the door.

“Fucking really?” Bruce sighed heavily and flipped over in the bed. “Goddamnit, Tony, go ahead. Get it out of your system. You were right; I’m an idiot; everyone knew this would happen; you told me so; I never listen. Fucking get it over with. I know you can’t help it, but get your digs in, then please let me be.”

A low feeling of shame sank through Tony’s chest. “Told you so.”

Bruce didn’t turn around. “Yes, you did.”

Tony pulled up the covers and crawled in bed. He snuggled around Bruce and kissed his shoulder. He rubbed up Bruce’s chest. Bruce was still wearing his sweater. He was dressed exactly as he had arrived at the party—minus only his shoes and belt. Tony pulled Bruce a little closer.

“I should have defended him the minute I realized what was happening. I know how he and Thor can be with each other. And when the others joined in—I didn’t stop it. He’s so sensitive—and I know how that feels—to be mocked and humiliated—I know, but I did nothing about it.”

Tony breathed in the faintly citrus scent of Bruce’s hair and sighed against his neck.

“I shouldn’t have been upset with him. It just seemed unfair for him to rake me over the coals for something I said when I didn’t even know him.”

Tony stroked Bruce’s forehead. “Shhh.” He wove a fingertip through the hair around Bruce’s ear. He thought Bruce had fallen asleep. He rested his forehead against Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce drew his legs up. “I spoke to him harshly. I’ve never done that before. I’ve always been so careful—but—I don’t know. I guess I became too comfortable.”

“Go to sleep, Bruce.” Tony brushed his fingers down from Bruce’s forehead, over his eyes, and down his face. “Close your eyes.” He placed his hand atop Bruce’s soft lips. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he whispered a little playfully, “and go to sleep.”

Bruce snorted softly in grudging amusement. He lay still. Tony continued to stroke his forehead. But just when Tony started to fall asleep himself, Bruce started up again. “I took him for granted. I took all of it for granted.” He curled into a fetal position. “How could I have done that? How could I have been so stupid?”

Tony tucked his knees up into the backs of Bruce’s. “Go to sleep.”

“Maybe I should call him….”

“Fucking go to fucking sleep, Bruce.”

“Or maybe just text him again….”

“Go. To. Sleep.” He nuzzled behind Bruce’s ear, still stroking his forehead. “Go to sleep.”


	9. Chapter 9

_Christmas 2013_

Bruce sat by himself in the third row in the empty theater in Stark Tower. Tony watched him watching the movie for a few minutes before deciding to join him. _Doctor Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Atomic Bomb_ flickered in black and white on the screen. Somehow, he almost felt as if Bruce were cheating on him. They usually watched this movie together. He and Bruce weren’t even a couple—that was ridiculous. He shook the feeling away and decided to bug Bruce.

He took the seat next to Bruce’s. Bruce didn’t look up. Tony shoved his arm. Bruce didn’t startle. He just looked around at Tony slowly and sat up a little. “Hey.”

“You’re watching this without me?”

Bruce didn’t smile. “I’m not really watching it. Aren’t you supposed to be on your private island?”

“I didn’t feel like it. It’s humid down there.”

“What about Pepper?”

“What about her?”

“Wasn’t she looking forward to getting away?”

Tony shrugged. “She’ll get over it.”

Bruce scoff-laughed, pulling away from Tony. “You like to live dangerously.”

“I’ll buy her something. She’ll shut up.”

“She doesn’t strike me as that type.”

“Everyone’s that type.”

Bruce sighed and grabbed the back of the seat in front of him. He rested his head on it and peered around at Tony. Somehow, he seemed rather sloth-like. “Sometimes, I think your world is even sadder than mine.”

“ _I first became aware of it, Mandrake, during the physical act of love._ ” Tony couldn’t help quoting the movie.  
After a few more lines, Bruce joined in. “ _I do not avoid women, Mandrake…but I do deny them my essence._ ” With a tired laugh, Bruce leaned back in his chair. He looked at Tony, not the movie.

Tony watched him not watching the movie for a few minutes. “Let’s go make something. I’ve been designing this whole new armor—”

“I’m feeling really brain dead. I don’t think I’ll be worth much.”

“You’re never worth much. I just like having you around. You’re more like a mascot, really.”

Bruce sighed, but stood. He said nothing as Tony led him out of the darkened theater, where they left the movie running, and into the sleek hallway. Tony went through the particulars of the new design as they walked. Bruce didn’t interject when Tony expected him to. Tony initiated a rather tentative diagnostic. “You’re still down because of this Loki business?”

Bruce, watching his shoes, didn’t look up. “Yeah. It’s difficult to explain. It’s not just him.” He paused, suddenly very still. “There’s something else. It’s like he tore all of these possibilities—like there’s some future that I can still feel like a phantom limb. I think that’s the most painful part. The death of hope. The death of some reality I never quite imagined, yet believed was solid beneath my feet.”

“You’ve been through worse. You’ll get over it.”

Bruce didn’t say anything. He remained silent even in the lab. Tony didn’t mind this so much. That was actually one of the things he enjoyed about working with Bruce—they could work together without a lot of unnecessary chatter. Still, as he watched Bruce slowly, gloomily reconfigure a formula like someone picking at his food, he felt a strange rush of tenderness.

What was stranger, there was something else—something he hadn’t felt since they were young—a vaguely familiar, faint heat. It glowed in the blood of his cock and tugged on his chest. He felt a strange nostalgia for another Christmas, long ago, when he and Bruce had held each other, when they had been young, and the space between them had seemed so small. “Do you remember Christmas in the Bahamas?”

Bruce glanced up with a snort. “Yeah, I’ve never been so sick. You had fun, though. I think you screwed every female on the island.”

Tony hadn’t remembered it that way. “You helped me deal with my parents’ deaths.”

“Oh,” said Bruce very softly. “Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t bother me anymore.” He twiddled a bit of machinery. “Do you want to go to the Bahamas?”

“No.” Bruce drew back, aghast. “I met Betty there.”

“Oh, right. What about my private island?”

Bruce scoffed. “Thanks. I’ll pass.” He frowned at his work. “Besides, I thought it was humid.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”

“It’ll just be the two of us. You’ll be a second wheel—like on a motorcycle. Motorcycles are cool.”

“What about Pepper?”

“She’s not sad. She doesn’t need to go anywhere.”

Bruce cringed. “Tony—”

“Where do you want to go? Or we can buy something. What do you want? Sports cars make me feel better.”

Bruce blinked at Tony, dumbfounded. “You’re trying to make me feel better?”

“Duh. You’re pretty slow when you’re down.”

“I guess so.” Bruce grinned. “Thanks. That’s really sweet.”

“So, you want to go to Europe and buy cars?”

“No. I want to stay here and increase the tensel strength of aluminum to a breathtaking degree.”

“What about your Christmas present?”

“I already got it. And kind of another one just now. Thank you.” He smiled at him in a shy, endearing way.

Tony basked in the warmth of that smile for a moment, feeling its embers after it had faded.

“I only got you a stupid card.” Bruce looked up guiltily. “And Loki picked out the box, so I really had no part in it except for signing it. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.”

Tony shrugged and went back to work, but he wasn’t sure it was true, either. Something significant had changed, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was.

***

_January_

Tony sighed. Bruce had not resumed making breakfast for everyone. He didn’t even make breakfast for himself. Instead, he drank coffee, alone, on the balcony. He stayed to himself more often now. He didn’t go out except to work; he didn’t interact with the others; he was so taciturn on missions that it was like he wasn’t even there. The Hulk was louder and angrier than ever; but Bruce seemed to be disappearing.

Tony joined Bruce on the balcony. Bruce continued watching the rain. Tony cleared his throat. Bruce didn’t speak or turn his head.

Bruce was broken. Tony wanted to fix him. He wanted it in a way that felt like a subtle clawing in his groin. His elbows felt weak. He stepped behind Bruce and gathered him up in a hug.

“Uff,” said Bruce.

Tony lay his cheek aside Bruce’s. He sighed. “Somebody needed compression therapy.”

Bruce laughed weakly. “I’m okay.” He patted Tony’s forearms.

Tony wished Bruce would face him, but he contented himself with watching the rain with his friend. Being with Bruce was so easy. They just breathed together. They just flowed.

No other relationship felt like this one. However much he cared about Pepper, she, like all women, remained ‘other.’ Women were objects to be pursued or owned or kept. They were trophies and diversions. He had tried for a time to find with other men the intimacy he found with Bruce, but no relationship compared. As he stood holding Bruce in the wet Manhattan morning, he realized that this connection was the only one that made contact with some hidden energy in his being's core.

He searched inside himself for some life preserver to throw his friend. “Do you want to go to Paris?”

“I have to work.”

He searched harder. What would Bruce do? “You can cry on me.”

Bruce chuckled. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“I’m being nice.” Tony bristled, still holding Bruce. “You’re sad. You should cry.”

Bruce’s shoulders stiffened. “It’s strange, now that you mention it. I haven’t cried at all since he left me.”

That _was_ strange. Bruce was a weepy little motherfucker. “You should cry. You’ll feel better. You can do it on me. I don’t mind getting gooey this morning.”

Bruce shrugged out of the hug. “Thanks. That’s kind of you. I have to get to work. The commute’s going to be a bitch.”

“You’re malfunctioning.”

“Fuck, Tony. I can’t cry. It hurts too much. I thought everything was perfect. We made sense. I couldn’t kill him. Now there’s nothing. And no one. I have to face the fact that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life. That’s not malfunctioning—that’s accepting reality.”

He left Tony on the balcony with the rain.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Implied domestic violence (It happens "off camera.") These themes have been discussed in this series many times, but if you believe there should be a stronger warning here, please let me know. To be honest, this chapter triggered me a bit while writing it, but I probably take these fics too seriously.

_February_  
Bruce cringed. Tony swept an arm across the table and spilled everything they had been working on onto the floor. Red-faced, he glared at Bruce and threw a wrench at one of the monitors. “Tony,” said Bruce carefully, “it’s okay to be angry, but do you think you’re really angry about that prototype not working, or because the last mission triggered your PTSD?”

Tony trembled with rage and emotion. In a hoarse voice he said, holding his thumb and forefinger a half inch apart, “That blast came this close to my bare head. This close!”

“I know.” Hulk, who loved Tony, had been so upset he had relayed the event to Bruce in their head. If Hulk had been so shaken, Bruce wasn’t surprised that Tony was having PTSD symptoms.

Tony took out a bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses. He poured a triple and downed it, then poured doubles. He shoved one at Bruce.

“Uh, I don’t really think you should be—”

“Don’t you dare tell me I can’t have a drink. Fuck you, Mr. Herbal Tea.”

“Maybe we could do a breathing exercise?”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“I wasn’t going to.” Bruce felt sick and helpless. He hated seeing Tony in so much pain. “Tony, rage is in my wheelhouse. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s anger.”

Tony quaffed his drink and poured another. He covered his face with one hand. “Fuuuuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He sucked a deep breath through his nose, held it for a second, then blew it out through his mouth. He took a drink and sighed. “I’m not going to be able to fight soon. Whenever we’re out there, whenever something comes close, I feel it—like an impact—all through me. It doesn’t have to touch me. I just feel it.”

“I know what you’re talking about. I think that’s part of hypervigilance.”

“I’ve just been going along with it, but it’s hard to push through it. I keep doing it, but…I don’t know how long I can.” He bowed his head. “And everything seems so hard. I’m supposed to create, to innovate, but all I want to do is fucking punch shit.”

Bruce stretched toward him carefully. “I understand that feeling too.” He patted Tony’s shoulder.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“It gets better. You can beat this.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to do something stupid, Bruce. I’m afraid I’m going to hurt someone.”

Bruce’s heart ached. “I’m here, Tony. I won’t let anything happen.”

***

_A few days later_  
 _Lab Two_

Bruce wrapped a blanket around Pepper. She sat stiffly in a wheeled office chair, staring straight ahead. She winced as he shown a light in her blood-filled eye. “I’m so sorry,” he told her. “I have to touch you.”

She bit her lips together, barely flinching as he examined the livid, already-swelling flesh. The blow had caught her cheek as well. He carefully felt along her zygomatic arch while she shuddered. “I don’t think you have any breaks, but I’d like to do an X-ray to be sure.”

“I’m leaving him,” she said quietly.

“It’s not him. It’s his PTSD. Sometimes patients become violent—”

“I’m the CEO of a multinational corporation. I’m successful and intelligent. I don’t need a boyfriend who hits me. I don’t care if he _is_ Tony Stark, and I don’t care what’s wrong with him.”

“He’s sick.” But Bruce felt queasy suddenly. He was the son of a woman who had been killed by domestic violence counseling a woman to stay with someone who had abused her. “Couples can make it through this. You should both seek counseling and try couples’ therapy.”

“I look the other way when he flirts with younger women. I try not to mind when he forgets things like my birthday. I can’t ignore this. No man gets a second chance to hit me. I’m worth more than that. I’m done.”

Bruce didn’t argue with her. She seemed so resolute. He handed her an ice pack. “Let me take a few X-rays, then I’ll help you collect your things if that’s what you want to do.”

“You understand, don’t you? You must have felt this way after Loki attacked you.”

“It was a different situation. He was trying to provoke the Hulk to take over. I can’t be around someone that would try to use him against me.” He sighed. “But I love Loki. If he hit me because he had PTSD, I would try to make it work.” He realized how he must have sounded. “I’m sorry. I’m not saying you’re wrong. I just…I miss Loki so much.”

“Is he still in New York?”

“Yeah. But I don't know how much longer I can keep paying rent on the apartment."

"You're paying his rent?"

"For now. This other job—I don’t know—I’m so tired.” He cleared his throat; she looked at him out of her good eye with pity. He wanted to defend his actions, but felt pathetic. “But...I worry about him.”

Pepper, holding the ice pack over her eye, said in a quiet voice, “Who worries about you?”

***

_Later_

Bruce found Tony in Lab Three, sitting on the floor in the dark, surrounded by a 3-D interface. The inventor wasn’t working on anything, he was just sitting in the middle of designs. He looked up when Bruce entered. “Is she okay?”

Bruce had never heard Tony’s voice shake before. He sat down on the floor next to Tony. “There were no fractures.” He took a breath. “She doesn’t want to see you right now. She left. I helped her.” He felt suddenly that there was something familiar about Tony’s skittish shame. Yet he had never seen Tony either frightened or ashamed before.

“You must hate me,” Tony whispered.

“I could never hate you.”

The words lit up Tony’s eyes for a heartbeat. He leaned toward Bruce. “I didn’t mean to do it. I know it’s cliché and horrible, but I don’t know what happened. I just—I told her to leave me alone, but she wouldn’t, she just kept talking—I know how that sounds. It wasn’t her fault.” He squeezed his head between his hands. “What’s wrong with me? I’ve never hit a woman before. I don’t do that. I’m not like that.”

“I think you need to see that doctor again. Violence can be part of PTSD. Not always, but I think that’s what’s happening with you.” He paused. “You’re not like my father. He followed the typical abuser’s cycle and was a controlling, sadistic narcissist. Interpersonal violence among PTSD sufferers is different.”

Tony didn’t look up. He held his head and stared at the floor. “The way it happened was so fucked up. I couldn’t stop it. It was like I was outside my body—like I was watching that shit happening—but I couldn’t stop it. It was MY fist. But it wasn’t.” His breath caught. “I’m going crazy. And I hurt Pepper. Oh, God, I hurt Pepper.” He started to cry.

Chilled, Bruce could only watch him for a second. He knew why this seemed familiar. He moved closer and rubbed Tony’s shoulders and neck. “You dissociated. That part where you felt like you were out of your body? That was dissociation. It happens to those who suffer from PTSD. It happens to me all of the time. Remember, I have Dissociative Identity Disorder?”

Tony sniffled and looked up at him. “Yeah.”

“Stop drinking. Get into therapy. Take it seriously.” He brushed Tony’s hair back. “You’re strong. You’re not used to feeling powerless because you rarely are. You won’t feel like this forever.”

Surrounded by the illuminated 3-D designs, they held each other on the floor.


	11. Chapter 11

_A few weeks later_

Tony stopped as if struck. Between him and a third cup of coffee stood the breakfast table. On the back of one of the chairs was draped a ratty beige cardigan. Bruce’s ratty beige cardigan. The scientist must have forgotten it. The sight—an ugly fucking sweater—had made Tony hard. Not a little hard, but full-on boner hard.

That was ridiculous. But…somewhere, Bruce was about without his sweater. Maybe he was cold? Maybe he needed a hug? Maybe his nipples were icy and—

What the fuck??? He hadn’t had sexual fantasies about Bruce in a long time. He loved him, he enjoyed being near him, but this—to this extent—was unnerving. Pepper had only been gone for a few weeks. He wasn’t ready to even think of dating. But his cock had decided it would go crazy at the sight of Bruce’s ugly cardigan.

He picked it up and stroked it as if it were a cat. It was softer than he expected. So soft. It smelled faintly of eucalyptus and lavender. He hugged the sweater and tamed his erection. After a few sweater-quiet moments, he started to take his coffee to the balcony, but voices from the nearby sitting area drew him toward them. He stopped and listened, just out of sight.

“Wait,” said Natasha. “You’re telling me you’re stuck with the apartment because Loki moved out?”

“I was paying the rent and letting him stay there. I thought he would get a job—I’ve been trying to help him get a job—and then he’d start paying part of the rent.”

“But he moved in with Pepper.” Natasha giggled. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“I know. It’s the situation.” Bruce sighed. “But I can’t stay here now. I have to move back.”

“They won’t let you out of the lease?”

A disgusted snort. “No.”

“Did you tell them you’re an Avenger?”

“They don’t care. I signed the lease. That’s all they care about. I can’t pay rent on an empty apartment. I have to move back.”  
“Awww. I thought you kind of liked having your own place.”

Bruce sighed. “It’s full of memories of Loki. I hate the very idea of it.”

***

_The next day_

Bruce found Tony in Lab Four. “What the fuck did you do?”

“When?”

“I just got a call from my building. They want me to come get my stuff. They’ve forgiven my lease.”

Tony stretched. “Yeah? Good news, huh?”

“You bought the building. Why the fuck did you buy that building?”

“Tony Stark. Billionaire. Playboy. Slumlord. Kinda has a nice ring to it.”

“But why?”

Tony frowned. “I wanted to.” He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Bruce stared at him in confusion. “That’s—that’s a really big favor. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Tony shrugged, turning back to his machinery. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just money. I have lots of it. It’s no big deal.”

“Kinda feels like a big deal.”

“I would do the same for any of the Avengers.” He looked up with a smile. “We’re a team, right?”

“Yeah…team.” Bruce had hoped, for a silly heartbeat, that it had meant something more.

***

_A couple of weeks later_

Tony, post workout and freshly showered, ran a hand through his damp hair and wished Bruce would get home from work soon. He opened up Lab Four and pulled down a robotic arm assembly. Some of the people in his PTSD support group were missing limbs. He had a few ideas for making prosthetics work better.

He turned on some music and realized, with a sudden strangeness, that he felt happy. He felt normal and grounded. On the heels of that realization, he thought of Bruce. Bruce had seemed down after he and Loki broke up, but he was starting to do better too. He was going out at night, lately, but he said he was just ‘taking Hulk for a walk.’ He always came home alone.

Maybe…maybe they could take a trip somewhere, and just be together, and see how things went. He had loved Bruce for years. Maybe it was time something happened.

His phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number. He answered anyway, some strange feeling prompting him to do so.  
It was Logan. “You're Bruce’s friend, right?”

“Usually.”

“Something’s up with him. He’s wrong somehow.”

“Yeah, he’s a little brainiac who turns into a big green rage monster.”

“This is something else. Look, I don’t want to get in his business, but—” He struggled with something for a heartbeat. “He’s a nice guy. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Logan’s frankness raised the hairs on Tony’s arms. The mutant’s concern sounded genuine. Tony pushed down the fear rising in his chest. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“He keeps wanting to spar. Which is fine. But lately it’s gotten weird.”

“Weird how?”

“He wants to start off as him. Like, I attack him—as Bruce—then he hulks out and we fight.”

“Okay.”

“No. It’s not. I’ve clipped him a few times, but the other day, I skewered him—not Hulk—Bruce. He turned, but for a second, I thought I’d killed him. I told him I didn’t want to do this anymore. He got pissed. Something’s up. He’s not right.”

A sick feeling washed over Tony. What was Bruce getting into?

***

_That night_  
 _A tower on the Verranzano-Narrows Bridge_

Bruce looked down at the dark water and sighed. Another night, another bridge. This was the only way he could sleep now. He would leap from a some high place, turn into Hulk, go home and sleep. A strange grinding sound turned his head. He found Loki beside him on the tower of the bridge. “Loki? What are you doing here?”

“I’m not your Loki,” Loki said quietly, his lips thinned by a smile.

“Yes.” Bruce ducked his head in shame. “I know.” He looked up, hoping to convey the earnestness he felt with eye contact. “You belong to no one, Loki. You’re your own person. You owe nothing to anyone—not me, not Thor, not Odin.”

Loki looked at him with an expression of repentant love. “Sweet Bruce. That’s not what I meant. I’m not the Loki of your universe; I’m the Loki of an adjacent one.”

Bruce felt as if his spine had disintegrated inside him. He wanted to fall to his knees. Instead, he looked into Loki’s beautiful eyes. “This is cruel. I know we’ve had our differences, but I loved you then and I love you still. Don’t play these games with me.”

Loki drew up, affronted. “I’m not playing games. I’m from your universe’s twin. You know such things are possible.”

“I suppose there’s M theory, but I don’t think this is how that—”

“You have an alter ego that turns you into a giant green steroid case and one of your coworkers is a super soldier who fought Nazis in the twentieth century and another is a Norse god. One would think you’d be somewhat more open-minded.”

Bruce tried to think of something to say, but his thoughts felt leaden. He couldn’t even get excited about the possibility of another universe and talking to a different Loki. He wanted only to be left alone.

Loki cocked his head to one side, studying Bruce and frowning. “I had no idea you’d be this much of a mess without me. You’re not even the same person…poor Bruce. That Loki—your Loki—I can assure you he never intended you to suffer so.”

Bruce sighed. This wasn’t a cute trick. It wasn’t cute at all. He didn’t feel up to being the ant beneath Loki’s magnifying glass. “You said you’re from another universe.”

“Yes! Now you’re getting it!”

“And you know how my universe’s Loki feels because…?”

“I _was_ him until you two broke up at Tony’s Christmas party.” A melancholy wave washed over his features. “I broke up with you because I was angry that you didn’t immediately take my side. So you let me go, and in your universe that’s where it ended. In mine, we made up.”

“Great. I’m really happy for you. Why are you here?”

Loki hesitated. “Because you told me I needed to talk to you.”

“Your me?”

“No. You you. We’ll meet someday when you visit my universe, and you’ll tell me about this conversation.”

“I’m having a psychotic break.”

“No, my dear Bruce, this is all quite real.”

“This is pure madness. It makes no sense. It doesn’t even obey its own laws—”

“Bruce, please try to understand. I want to tell you everything—to reveal your path—and I don’t want you to pass another day in pain. But I must take great care. The slightest misstep, and my future could change, the ones I love could be killed and my world, destroyed.”

“Then you wouldn’t be here, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Stop trying to understand this. It’s magic and it’s complicated. It’s beyond your limited comprehension.”

“Arthur C. Clarke believed magic was science that was yet to be understood.”

Arms folded, Loki looked at him sourly. “Yes, of course, because you Midgardians are always trying to confine everything to the little boxes of your limited imaginations.”

Bruce heaved a sigh and stared over the edge with longing.

“Listen, Bruce, what’s important is this—you can’t get back together with Loki.”

Bruce snapped up. He couldn’t hide his indignation. “Future me sent you from a parallel universe to tell me that? I _know_ that. I’ve known that from the moment we split up.”

“I wasn’t finished.” Loki drew himself up straighter. “I know you understand that, but you need to move beyond it.”

“I’m trying,” Bruce said in a small voice.

“I know,” Loki said gently. “But you’re not moving forward.”

“There is no forward. There’s just the way things are. I’ve already accepted that.”

Loki was quiet for a moment. Together, they watched a barge chug slowly under the bridge. “What kind of god am I?” Loki asked finally.

“I don’t believe in gods.”

Loki sighed. “In the mythological sense, what kind of god am I?”

“A trickster god.” Bruce smiled in spite of himself. “God of mischief, god of lies.”

“What purpose does the trickster serve?”

“Mythologically speaking?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course.”

Bruce sighed. “Trickster gods are all about change. They challenge us to reexamine our beliefs, encourage us to change course.” He looked at Loki, comprehending.

Loki smiled. “See?”

“That doesn’t help at all. What am I supposed to change?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“So, basically, future me sent you here to torment me?”

“No. Quite the opposite. You need to stop torturing yourself. You did nothing wrong. Your world’s Loki will tell you that himself when he’s ready. You’ll even be friends.”

Bruce couldn’t listen to any more of it. He turned away to hide his face. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but this isn’t helping.” He felt as if he might cry, and almost laughed, but couldn’t do either. His head roared. “Fuck. I don’t even know if any of this is real.”

The next instant, he was snuggled roughly against Loki’s chest. He turned into Loki’s embrace and stayed there, eyes closed. Loki held him tight and stroked his hair. “You’ve gone numb,” he said softly. “You’ve retreated from your emotions like you did when you were a little boy. Back then, it must have helped you survive. It’s only crippling you now.”

“Your Bruce told you about all of that? My childhood?”

“My Bruce tells me everything. He’s my best friend.” Loki paused. “Friendship is important in a relationship, you know. Perhaps even more important than romance. There’s nothing quite like being in love with your best friend.”

“That’s nice. I’m glad the two of you are happy.”

Loki sighed heavily. “Your heart isn’t the only thing that’s dulled, is it?”

Bruce couldn’t say anything. He stayed pressed against Loki, enjoying the cool fingers against his face. He wanted to believe this was real, wanted to believe that somewhere some version of himself was happy. But his own life felt like a murky blur of loneliness. He slept-walked from one day to the next and found respite only in dreamless sleep. “The only time I feel alive is that space between being me and turning into the Hulk.”

“You can’t live there, Bruce,” Loki whispered gently into his hair.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Because we aren’t together, possibilities exist in this universe that don’t in mine. You’re like a glass that shattered, but now you’re no longer the same glass. Your pieces aren’t the same. You can put them back together, but now it will be a vase.”

“Oh, Loki.” He gave Loki a small squeeze. He couldn’t help feeling as if he’d been robbed. “I don’t want a vase.”  
Loki kissed his temple. “Maybe a nice paperweight, then. Just be able to see the possibility when it presents itself.” He tightened his hold and rubbed the back of Bruce’s neck. “Look for the light, my love. You won’t find anything good throwing yourself into the darkness like this.”

Bruce sighed, reluctant to let Loki go. Loki withdrew finally. "I'm sorry. I can't stay any longer. This sort of travel isn't very good for the baby."

Before Bruce could ask any questions, Loki disappeared.

***

_Stark Tower_

Tony cornered Bruce in the hall outside his quarters. “Logan says you're acting fucked up.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s a good judge of that.” Bruce smiled faintly and tried to get past him.

Tony blocked him with an arm. “ _I_ think you’re acting kind of fucked up.”

Bruce no longer looked amused. “Oh, well, that’s a consensus of two that’s—meaningless. I’m sweaty and tired. I need a shower. Let’s play ‘What’s wrong with Bruce now’ some other time, okay?”

“So, you think this is a game?”

Bruce blinked at him. “Maybe with some weed, yeah?”

Tony smirked. “You’re right. This would be better with weed.” He wanted to let it go at that, but what Logan had said disturbed him. It cut through his usual defenses to stab that vulnerable new spot, giving the thought the power to crush his heart and rob his lungs of air. He couldn’t let it go. “Natasha’s seen you out at night. She told me about the skyscrapers and the bridges. Be real with me. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“No.” He shook his head in exasperation. “I can’t even if I wanted to. I told you. He won’t let me. The Other Guy has an amazing, almost disgusting, will to live.”

“So what the fuck are you doing?”

Bruce bitch face. “I’m conducting experiments.”

“Throwing yourself off high shit, asking Wolverine to attack you—that’s science?”

“I’m testing Hulk’s abilities and his limits. It’s necessary. We need to know his weaknesses.”

“Okay. I can see that.” He grinned. “We already know your weakness.”

Bruce frowned at him. “Oh?”

Tony made a devil sign with his hand and bounced it up and down. “ _Jingle bells, jingle bells…._ ”

For horrible moment, Bruce just stared at him. Then, in a fair mimicry of Loki's voice, he said, “No, you asshole. Deer have—”

“ANTLERS!” they yelled together. They laughed. Not simply the quiet harrumphs that had passed for laughter between them lately, but true, hard laughs. Tony grabbed Bruce and hugged him while they howled like hyenas. He didn’t realize how much he had missed laughing like this with his friend. Tony felt free for the first time in months.

And then Bruce wasn’t laughing anymore. He sobbed on Tony’s shoulder. Tony giggled for a minute, not sure if this was some sort of joke. Then, he realized it wasn’t. Something in Bruce had just sort of snapped. Tony felt at a loss. He backed away.

Bruce drifted into the wall and huddled against it with one arm wrapped around his head. He wept as he sank to the floor, still hiding his face.

Tony looked up and down the empty hall. He squatted next to Bruce. “Hey, let’s go in your room, huh?” He pried Bruce up. He dragged Bruce inside his room and sat with him on the bed.

They watched the fish for a few minutes in silence. Then Bruce wiped his eyes and said, “I’m okay now, thanks. You can go.”  
But Tony didn’t. He pulled Bruce close and kissed his mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Light dubcon

For the barest second, Bruce resisted. Then he grabbed the back of Tony’s head and kissed him hard and deep. His breathing grew ragged. His free hand closed around Tony’s throat and squeezed lightly.

Tony moaned. They tore each other’s clothes off, writhing around the bed and nipping and sucking each other’s flesh. When, at last, they were nude, they grappled and kissed some more, their big, swollen cocks bouncing hard and hot between them.

Bruce sucked Tony’s big, veiny cock, then let Tony’s hands guide his hips down so Tony could also suck his. Bruce flinched in surprise when Tony started rimming him. He moved slightly to allow Tony better access. Tony’s tongue skimmed Bruce’s hole like a figure skater. There was something precise and delicate about his licks. They made Bruce’s insides shiver.

Bruce scooted away so he could rim Tony. He spread Tony’s ass cheeks and fell upon his hole like Hannibal Lecter. He gnawed and chased it when Tony giggled and twisted away. He caught Tony’s hips in a viselike grip and rimmed him furiously. Tony laughed. Bruce thrust his tongue deeper and deeper until he found Tony’s prostate. Tony’s breath caught and he moaned.

Bruce grabbed some lube from the nightstand. He bounced behind Tony, who was on his hands and knees on the bed. He felt self-conscious about his body and wanted to take Tony from behind. He slathered Tony’s red, wanton hole with lube. He lubed up his hungry cock and plunged it inside. In his eagerness, he entered a bit before Tony was ready. Tony’s breath whistled between his teeth.

Bruce made himself slow down and stretched Tony gently with his cock, easing him back onto his hips with light hands and gentle promises.

Then he pounded the inventor with years of pent up angst coursing through his veins. He couldn’t fuck Tony fast enough. He fucked him hard, pushing deep and knocking against him. Tony’s elbows buckled. His chest mashed into the mattress. Bruce pounded him harder. His fingers bit into Tony’s pelvis. His cock sang in Tony’s roasting, muscular hole. Their bodies slapped against each other in the otherwise silent room.

The fish floated calmly in their quiet world. Outside their tank, Tony moaned and cried, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Smack! Smack! Smack! The sounds of ecstasy and wet, slippery flesh filled the air.

Tony came with something like a prayer. “Oh, yes, Bruce, oh!” And Bruce followed soon after, his cock twitching inside his friend as he filled him with cum.

Bruce fell over on his back and stared at the ceiling. He giggled breathlessly. “A vase. Vases aren’t bad, are they? They hold flowers.”

“You okay?”

Bruce laughed. “I’m fantastic. You?”

Tony grabbed Bruce’s sweaty head and pulled it onto his chest. He kissed Bruce’s lips. “What do you think?”

They lay together on the bed, kissing each other softly. Tony sat up on his elbows suddenly. “Tomorrow, do you want to go to Paris for breakfast?” He planted a quick kiss on Bruce’s chin. “Does that sound fun?”

Bruce caressed around Tony’s ear. “Anything with you sounds fun. We can go to Brooklyn for breakfast—it’ll be just as romantic if you’re beside me.”

Tony snickered and kissed Bruce’s chest. He kissed down Bruce’s stomach, pausing to feather his tongue around Bruce’s navel. Bruce squirmed and pulled the sheet over himself. Tony laughed at him and tugged the sheet away. “You’re so ticklish. Stop! I’m just kissing you. I won’t tickle.” He scraped his whiskers against Bruce’s stomach.

Bruce flinched. “It’s not that.” He pulled the sheet back over him, gritting his teeth. “Come back up here and talk to me.”  
“I’m going to kiss your bellybutton!”

“Don’t!”

Tony sat up. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I know you don’t like the way I look. Don’t make this weird.”

Tony looked genuinely confused. Bruce kind of hated him for a second. “Dad bod. You don’t find me attractive. You like my mind. And doggy style. That’s good enough. That’s something.”

Tony’s dark eyes glistened. “I hurt you?”

“It’s okay.” Bruce flushed with embarrassment. “You’re just like that. It’s okay.” He hated himself now. “We had a great time—let’s not ruin it.”

Tony’s hand slipped under the sheet to roam Bruce’s stomach. “You’ve been working out. I can tell. You look hot.”

Bruce wanted to crawl underneath the bed. “Still no six-pack—not even a line. I’m middle-aged and soft.”

“You look good.” His fingertips grazed Bruce’s flesh. “Even when you’re heavier. I like the way you look.”

“Don’t.” Bruce’s face felt hot. “Everything was so good….”

Tony rubbed down to Bruce’s neatly trimmed pubic hair. “I was joking. Playing around. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” He sighed. “Sorry _that_ I hurt your feelings.” His knuckles brushed against the inside of Bruce’s drawn up thigh.

Bruce couldn’t say anything. He could barely breathe. His body felt as if every part of it were drawn to Tony, but his mind remained wary. “I’m not Thor or Steve.”

“Uh, duh. What do they have to do with anything?”

Suddenly, Bruce felt as if he were being petty, but he couldn’t help it. The comment had wounded him. “You told Pepper you would be with one of them before you’d be with me.”

“Fuck. You remember everything, don’t you? I was just saying shit. Do you see me hanging out with either of them the way I do with you?” Tony chuckled softly. “The other day I found one of your ugly sweaters and got a hard-on just thinking about you. You, Bruce. My little scientist.”

“I don’t think I want you to call me that.”

“My little physicist.”

Bruce laughed. “That isn’t better.” His breath caught as Tony’s lightly-calloused fingertips drifted around the underside of his scrotum.

Tony stroked Bruce’s perineum, staring into Bruce’s eyes. “I’m going to make you feel good,” he whispered. His other hand shoved the sheet aside and eased Bruce’s guarding thigh away. “I’m going to show you how I feel, Bruce Banner.”

Bruce’s cock, hardening despite his shame, bobbed up eagerly. Tony laughed, licked his finger, and then leaned forward to take Bruce’s hard cock in his mouth. He sucked Bruce’s glans with gusto while teasing Bruce’s hole with a wet finger.

Tony felt around for the lube. Bruce handed it to him, pleased with Tony’s sensitivity. The wet finger wasn’t quite wet enough. Tony lubed Bruce’s hole generously. He played with Bruce’s ass and sucked his cock.

Bruce closed his eyes and felt swept under by waves of pleasure. He moaned when Tony rubbed his prostate. Tony’s tongue swirled around Bruce’s glans while he wiggled his finger over Bruce’s prostate. Bruce bucked against him, moaning Tony’s name.

Tony inserted another finger. Bruce enjoyed the stretching sensation paired with Tony’s persistent suction. Bruce’s chest felt tight; his nipples were so hard they ached. Tony shoved a finger knuckle into Bruce’s prostate and stuck the edge of his tongue in the slit of Bruce’s cock. Bruce moaned in ecstasy.

A third finger stretched him more forcefully. It still felt good, but Bruce looked up. “Three’s probably enough, I think.”

Tony came off of Bruce’s cock. “I was going to do one more. I’m kind of big.”

“What???”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Bruce pushed himself back. “Wait, wait, wait. No. I don’t do that. Ever. You know why. Remember?”

Tony got some more lube. “Yeah, I know. You’re broken. I’m going to fix you.”

“I’m fine the way I am, Tony. Come on, let’s 69 or something.”

Tony, four fingers in, fanned them inside Bruce, stretching his hole gently and deliberately. “I want to fuck you.” He fingered Bruce’s prostate and stretched him more.

Bruce’s body betrayed him. His cock stood as erect as a tower, and his hips rocked toward Tony’s hand. It felt good, so good. Now. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take having Tony’s big cock inside him. “No! No, Tony! Stop!”

Tony stared at him. “Do you love me or not?”

Bruce felt as if someone had thrown ice water on him. “Yes,” he managed in a small voice. “I’ve loved you from the moment we first met.”

“Me too.” Tony gazed at him lovingly. “Actually, I thought you were retarded when we first met, but I loved you after that.”  
“Tony…okay…look, Tony. I can’t do this, okay?”

Tony lubed up his monster of a cock. “I’ll take care of you. You’re good and open. You’re going to be fine.” He inserted the big tip. Bruce could feel the lube squishing around his rim as the thing shoved inside him.

Sweat popped out over Bruce’s shoulders. He crushed the Hulk down inside him. Shaking all over, he cried, “Tony! Stop! I’m going to turn!”

Tony kneaded Bruce’s glans. “Open your eyes.” His voice was mild and gentle. “It’s me. It’s not him. It’s me.”

Bruce looked into Tony’s eyes. He had never seen his friend look so sweet. “Tony….”

“Yeah. Tony. Bruce, I know he hurt you. I know, but he’s not here. We turned him into chum. We buried that motherfucker at sea. He can’t hurt you anymore. _I’m_ here.” He pushed a little deeper. “That’s me inside you. Me, here, rubbing your dick. Stroking your thighs.”

Bruce didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t stop shaking.

“Breathe with me, bro. Like when we’re meditating.” He inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly. He eased deeper. “Feel us, you and me. There’s nothing else. There’s just us. There’s nothing more important than this one point in time. You. And me.”

“Tony….”

Tony pulled on Bruce’s cock. “It’s me, Bruce,” he whispered. “Shut everything else out. _I’m_ touching you. _I’m_ inside you. _I’m_ loving you. Me.” He whimpered softly and stretched over Bruce’s body, covering him with his own. “Don’t cry. Please, Bruce. Don’t cry.”

Bruce swallowed. “I can’t help it.”

Tony wiped Bruce’s wet cheek with a thumb. “I’m sorry.”

Bruce stared into his eyes. “Don’t be sorry.” He swiveled and bucked to take Tony deeper. “Just fuck me.”

They fucked slowly, but with hard, passionate thrusts. All the while, they stared into each other’s eyes, breathing and staying in the moment. Bruce felt as if he were melting into Tony’s soul, as if they were bonded, body and breath, on some level he had never felt before.

Remembering that Tony liked breath play, he carefully put his hands around Tony’s throat. He rubbed his thumbs into the muscles of Tony’s neck. Tony nodded and shuddered when Bruce squeezed. He watched Tony’s face, Tony’s handsome face, and choked him with gentle pressure.

Bruce compressed Tony’s throat until he felt Tony’s cock swell to some greater dimension; he was about to come. He freed Tony just as he felt cum jetting against his walls. Tony gasped and trembled all over. Bruce came at almost the exact instant. They hugged each other and cried, Tony sniffling in Bruce’s hair. They remained in a fervent embrace, linked, until Tony grew flaccid, then they slipped apart, but continued to hold each other.

“Bruce,” Tony said softly, “you can go to sleep. Hulk won’t hurt me. That one time, in Florida, I provoked him. It was my fault. You can fall asleep with me.”

Bruce kissed his lips. “I know. He told me a long time ago. But there were things after that. He and I fought each other for so long. Things are better between us, but I still don’t trust him—especially with something as important as your safety.” He sighed, feeling overwhelmed with love. “You’re the most important thing in my world, Tony.”

After what seemed a long time, Tony fell asleep. Bruce held him, kept vigil. He couldn’t have slept if he had wanted to. He felt alive for the first time in ages. He felt awake.

***

_The next morning_

Bruce grinned when Tony’s eyes flickered open. “Réveille-toi!”

Tony blinked at him blearily.

“You know, I was thinking, Paris does sound like fun, but it might actually be kind of romantic to go to Mumbai—”

Tony sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I just remembered something. I can’t do breakfast today.”

“That’s all right. We can do lunch.”

“I have business.”

“We don’t have to go anywhere.” Bruce sat up, eager and flushed. “We can have an intimate dinner. I’ll just make us something here.”

Without looking at Bruce, Tony hurriedly pulled on his clothes. “Uh, yeah. I’m going to be gone for a few days. We’ll talk when I get back, huh?”

“Oh.” Bruce hugged one of the pillows. “But…”

Tony left without turning around. Bruce watched the door for a few minutes, half-heartedly hoping this was some sort of joke. But the door stayed shut. Bruce sat alone with the fish, hugging his pillow. “Vases are empty inside,” he whispered to the lonely room.

He fell back onto the bed and pulled the blankets around him. He reached over and felt the warmth still radiating from the side where Tony had slept.

This was another example of the differences between them. For Bruce, the night had been a life-changing event. For Tony it had been…just another night. He slept with so many people—he had probably helped others with similar problems.

Bruce allowed himself to be amused by the idea of Tony as a sex therapist for a moment, then took a deep breath and let whatever negative feelings he had about the night go. It had been a beautiful experience; it didn’t need to be any more than that.

***

_A few days later_  
 _John F. Kennedy International Airport_

In his suit, Tony whizzed through the airport. He spotted Bruce sitting at a bar and landed next to him. He lifted his helm. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I like to drink a little before flying. It calms me.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Bruce smiled at him with sad brown eyes. “I got a great job at Caltech. I loved it there. It’s like I’m going home.”

“Nick isn’t happy about all of this.”

“He seemed okay when I talked to him.”

“He called me and said to bring you home.”

“I’m not running away. I’m just pursuing my life. I’m still an Avenger and will be available whenever the team needs me.”  
“You’ll just be on the other side of the country.”

Bruce shrugged a little. “I love California. I miss it.” He smiled that sad smile again. “Thank you. You helped me see what I need to do. I’m going to surround myself with positive things. I’m going to eat fresh oranges and swim in the Pacific, research clean energy options and teach.”

A hatch opened in Tony’s suit. He pulled some blueprints out of it and handed them to Bruce. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Valentine’s Day was over a month ago.”

“Goddamnit, Benji. Just look.”

Bruce stared at the diagrams. “This is a present?”

“Uh-huh.”

Bruce downed his scotch. He pulled a pen out of his suit jacket and scribbled something on a cocktail napkin. He gave it to Tony. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Tony frowned at the napkin. “What the fuck is this?”

“A giant magnetic fan.” He grabbed the napkin back, doodled a quick addition, and flapped it in Tony’s face. “There’s a shark tank below it to catch any bits that fall. I’m calling it, Iron Man Chop-chomp.”

“What the actual fuck?”

“Hulkbuster? What, I’m supposed to like that?”

Tony wondered how Bruce could be such a fucking idiot sometimes. “It’s not like I’m trying to kill him. Or even hurt him, really. This is to subdue him.” He folded his arms. “Obviously, I could use your help on the finer points.”

“Hmm. Yeah. Like this bit won’t work, will it? And this part—that’s needlessly complicated. I’m sure we could find a more elegant solution….”

Tony bristled. “I didn’t mean with those parts. I meant with other things.”

Bruce pursed his lips at the designs. “I’ll help with all of it.” He held his chin, frowning, already at work.

Tony snapped his fingers in front of Bruce’s face. “Hey! You’re getting lost in the details, dorkus. Don’t you see what this means? I did this for you.”

Bruce cocked his head to one side. “For me….” The realization seemed to wash over him without quite sticking.

Tony stroked the hair above Bruce’s ear. “For us.” Bruce stared at him as if in a stupor and said nothing. This was not exactly the reaction Tony had expected. “I want there to be an ‘us,’ and I wanted to remove all of your objections to it.”

Tears started in Bruce’s eyes. Tony sighed with relief. That was more like it. “The timing has never been right for us. Let’s make it right.” He grazed Bruce’s stubble with his suited fingers and stared at the scientist with every ounce of his love. “If you don’t fucking say something, I’m going to punch you in the face.”

“You left. We were so intimate—and then you just left,” Bruce said in a hushed voice. A crowd had begun to form around them. A semi-circle of cell phones filmed their discussion.

“I had to sort out my feelings. I had to think about it all.” He felt sorry then that Bruce had been hurt by his absence, but he needed Bruce to understand. “This is a big deal for me. I’ve kind of had feelings for you for years, but now I realize I’m gay. And…you’re open…so, that means I should be open…. And I know you need a real commitment to feel safe.” His words felt inadequate. “I want to be everything you need me to be.”

Bruce just stared at him.

“Let me come to California with you. I don’t care if you want to go to Caltech or Calcutta. I want to be with you.”

Bruce just stared at him.

Tony opened a small compartment near his chest and withdrew his secret weapon. He knelt before Bruce, who perched on his barstool with wide eyes. “Bruce Banner, you nerdy fucking dickwad, will you be my Rat Park?”

Bruce dropped from his barstool with a small whimper. “You kept that bracelet I made for you? You were supposed to destroy everything.”

“Who would know what that meant except us?”

“Yes.” Bruce sniffled. “Yes.” He crushed Tony against his chest. Tony hugged him back, breathless and laughing.

“Iron Man?” a woman called from the crowd.

“Yes. I’m Iron Man,” said Tony proudly. “And he’s the Hulk. And we’re both gay.”

Still teary-eyed, Bruce huffed a laugh. “You’re out.”

“Really gay. A few days ago, he fucked my butthole, and I fucked his.”

“TMI, baby gay.” Bruce grabbed his face before he could utter another word and kissed his mouth with ferocity and passion.

Tony allowed himself to be silenced, but he played a song he thought Bruce would like from his speakers. _In the End_ by Snow Patrol. He had picked it because he thought it was drippy so, naturally, Bruce would like it. But as they kissed, the lyrics surrounded him. And Tony, who had always been a thinker, holding the man he loved, found a strange veracity in the song. _There’s nothing more to life than love, is there?_

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of my scibros series! I hope you enjoyed it! This Tony and Bruce will make an appearance in an upcoming gammafrost fic, but that story will mainly be about the Loki and Bruce of my gammafrost universe.
> 
> If you want to keep in touch, you can find me as Sionnach Wintergreen on Facebook or @everwintergreen on Twitter.


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